LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Shel^.A "$ ^ 

— -t\7f 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



JACOB ABBOTT'S 



YOUNG CHEISTBJ SEEIES 

IN FOUR VOLUMES. 

I. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 
II. THE CORNER STONE. 

III. THE WAY TO DO GOOD. 

IV. HOARYHEAD AND M'DONNER. 

VERY GREATLY IMPROVED AND ENLARGED. 



ESTft!) numerous Euflrabfnjs. 



NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

329 & 331 PEARL STREET, 

FRANKLIN SQUARB. 




1877/ 



r>*. 



THE 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



BY JACOB ABBOTT. 



VERY GREATLY IMPROVED AND ENLARGED. 



3$?iti) numerous Jgnaraufnns. 




N E \Y YORK: 
HARPER & BROTHERS. PUBLISH 
329 & 331 PEARL STREET, 
FRANKLIN SQUARE 

1879, 







0F Congress 
Washington 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by 

HARPER & BROTHERS, 

In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. 



Copyright, 1879, by Jacob Abbott. 



PREFACE. 



-*~»-^ 



The works comprised in the Young Christian series 
are the following : 

I. The Young Christian ; or, a Familiar Illustration 
of the Principles of Christian Duty. 

II. The Corner Stone ; or, a Familiar Illustration of 
the Principles of Christian Truth. 

III. The "Way to do Good ; or, the Christian Char- 
acter Mature. 

IV. Hoaryhead and M'Donner ; or the Radical Na- 
ture of the Change in Spiritual Regeneration. 

The Young Christian, the first volume of the series, 
is intended as a guide to the young inquirer in first en- 
tering upon his Christian course. Like the other vol- 
umes of the series, the work is intended, not for chil- 
dren, nor exclusively for the young, but for all who are 
first commencing a religious life, whatever their years 
may be. Since, however, it proves, in fact, that such 
beginners are seldom found among those who have 
passed beyond the early periods of life, the author has 
kept in mind the wants and the mental characteristics 

A* 



VI PREFACE. 



of youth, rather than those of maturity, in the form in 
which he has presented the truths brought to view, and 
in the narratives and dialogues with which he has at- 
tempted to illustrate them. 

In respect to the theology of the work, it takes every 
where for granted that salvation for the human soul is 
to be obtained through repentance for past sin, and 
through faith and trust in the merits and atonement of 
our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Its main design, 
however, is to enforce the practice, and not to discuss 
the theory, of religion. Its object is simply to explain 
and illustrate Christian duty, exhibiting this duty, how- 
ever, as based on those great fundamental principles of 
faith in which all evangelical Christians concur. 

The Corner Stone, the second volume of the series, 
though intended to explain and illustrate certain great 
religious truths, is not a work of technical theology. 
Its aim is simply to present, in a plain and very prac- 
tical manner, a view of some of the great fundamental 
truths of revealed religion, on which the superstructure 
of Christian character necessarily reposes. The char- 
acter and history of Jesus Christ, considered as the chief 
Corner Stone of the Christian faith, form the main sub- 
jects of the volume ; and the principles of faith which 
are brought to view are presented to the reader, as they 
are seen in the Scriptures, centring in him. 



PREFACE. Vll 



The Way to do Good, the third volume of the series, 
is designed to present a practical view of a life of Chris- 
tian usefulness, and to exhibit in a very plain and sim- 
ple manner the way in which a sincere and honest fol- 
lower of Jesus is to honor his sacred profession and ad- 
vance his Master's cause, by his daily efforts to promote 
the welfare and happiness of those around him. 

Hoaryhead and M'Donner, the fourth and last vol- 
ume of the series, consists of two connected tales, de- 
signed to illustrate the very radical character of the 
change by which the Christian life is begun. 

In the treatment of the various topics discussed in 
these volumes, the author has made it his aim to divest 
the subject of religion of its scholastic garb, and to pre- 
sent in all plainness and simplicity, and in a manner 
adapted to the intellectual wants of common readers, 
the great fundamental principles of truth and duty. It 
is now many years since the volumes of this series were 
first issued, and during that time they have been pub- 
lished, in whole or in part, very extensively through- 
out the Christian world. Besides the wide circulation 
which the series has enjoyed in this country, numerous 

editions, more or less complete, have been issued in En- 
i 
gland, Scotland, Ireland, France, Germany, Holland, 

India, and at various missionary stations throughout 



Vlll PREFACE. 



the globe. The extended approbation which the Chris- 
tian community have thus bestowed upon the plan, and 
the increasing demand for copies of the several volumes, 
have led to the republication of the series at this time 
in a new and much improved form. The works have 
all been carefully revised by the author for this edition,, 
and they are embellished with numerous illustrative 
engravings, which it is hoped may aid in making them 
attractive for every class of readers. 

New York, February, 1855. 



CONTENTS 



y^-- 



CHAPTER I. 

CONFESSION, . 13 

CHAPTER II. 

THE FRIEND, 32 

CHAPTER III. 

PRATEE, . . 51 

CHAPTER IV. 

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY, 81 

CHAPTER V. 

ALMOST A CHRISTIAN, 95 

CHAPTER VI. 

DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION, .112 



X CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Page 
EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 141 



CHAPTER VIII. 

STUDY OF THE BIBLE, 236 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE SABBATH, 269 

CHAPTER X. 

TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE, , 307 

CHAPTER XL 

PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT, 330 

CHAPTER XII. 

CONCLUSION, 392 



ENGRAVINGS. 



Page 
ROBINSON CRUSOE AND FRIDAY, .... title-page. 

THE SKATING, . . . , 13 

" YES, MA," 26 

THE PRISONER, 42 

THE AIR-HOLE, 49 

THE PACKET BECALMED, 59 

GOING ABOUT, 63 

LOUISA, * 84 

"SHE IS DEAD, SIR," 93 

THE WALK, 98 

THE COLLEGE WALK, 99 

THE FATHER'S COUNSELS, 122 

PRISONERS, 129 

SKEPTICISM, .142 

THE COURT, 149 

THE ALARM, . . . 167 

THE MAN OF WAR, 181 

TO CHARLESTOWN, . .201 

SAFE KEEPING, 210 

THE SEA OF TIBERIAS, ..•..,. 244 

THE APPRENTICE, 266 

SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS, . . 285 

THE INATTENTIVE HEARERS, 301 



XU ENGRAVINGS. 

Pago 

THE STEAMBOAT, 310 

THE SCHOOL-BOY, 323 

RIDING HOME, 332 

KING RICHARD, ........ 353 

THE COLD GRAVE, 361 

THE SEA CAPTAIN, . . . # 4 ... 381 

THE CONCLUSION • • 392 




THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



CHAPTER I. 

CONFESSION. 

" Confess vour faults one to another." 



Introduction, 



Nature of Confession. 



Case supposed. 



I wish, in this first chapter, to point out to the reader 
something in the nature and effects of co?ifessio?i which every 
one has perhaps, at some time, experienced, but which few 
sufficiently consider — I mean its power to bring peace and 
happiness back to the heart, when the conscience has been 
wounded by sin. But to make myself clearly understood, I 
must suppose a case. 



14 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Story of the boys' disobedience on the ice. 



Two boys, on a pleasant winter evening, ask their father 
to permit them to go out upon the river to skate. The 
father hesitates, because, though within certain limits he 
knows that there is no danger, yet he is aware that above a 
certain turn of the stream the current is rapid and the ice 
consequently thin. At last, however, he says, " You may go, 
but you must on no account go above the bend." 

The boys accept the condition, and are soon among theii 
twenty companions, shooting swiftly over the smooth black 
ice, sometimes gliding in graceful curves before the bright 
fire, which they have built in the middle of the stream, and 
sometimes sailing away into the dim distance, in search of 
new and unexplored regions. 

Presently a plan is formed by the other boys for going in 
a cheerful company far up the stream to explore its shores, 
and then return again in half an hour to their fire. Our 
two boys sigh to think of their father's prohibition to them. 
They faintly and hesitatingly hint that the ice may not be 
strong enough, but their caution has no effect upon their 
comrades, — and the whole party set forth, and soon are fly- 
ing with full speed toward the limit prescribed. Our boys 
think they may safely accompany the ' others till they reach 
the boundary which they are forbidden to pass ; — but while 
they do so, they become animated and intoxicated with the 
motion and the scene. They feel a little foreboding as they 
approach the line, but as it is not definitely marked, they do 
not abruptly stop. They fall a little in the rear, and see 
whirling through the bend of the river the whole crowd of 
their companions — and, after a moment's hesitation, they 
foUow on. The spot once past, their indecision vanishes ; — 
they press forward to the foremost rank, — forget their father, 
—their promise, — their danger. God protects them how- 
ever. They spend the half-hour in delight,— return down 
the river to their fire, — and at the close of the evening the> 



CONFESSION. 15 



Consequences. Their unhappiness. 

take off their skates, step upon the firm ground, and walk 
toward their home. 

The enjoyment is now over, and the punishment is to come. 
What punishment ? I do not mean that their father will 
punish them. He knows nothing of their sin. He trusts his 
boys, and, confiding in their promise, he will not ask them 
whether they have kept it. They have returned safely, and 
the forbidden ice over which they have passed never can 
speak to tell of their disobedience. Nor do I mean the pun- 
ishment which God will inflict in another world upon undu- 
tiful children. I mean another quicker punishment, and 
which almost always comes after transgression. And I wish 
my young readers would think of this more than they do 

I mean the loss of peace of mind. 

As the boys approach their father's dwelling, unless their 
consciences have become seared by oft repeated transgres- 
sions, their hearts are filled with uneasiness and foreboding 
care. They walk slowly and silently. As they enter the 
house they shrink from their father's eye. He looks pleased 
and happy at their safe return. But they turn away from 
him as soon as they can, and prefer going to another room, 
or in some other way avoiding his presence. Their sister 
perhaps, in the gayety and kindness of her heart, begins to 
talk with them about their evening's enjoyment : but they 
wish to turn the conversation. In a word, their peace of 
mind is gone, — and they shrink from every eye, and wish to 
go as soon as possible to bed, that they may be unseen and 
forgotten. 

If they have been taught to fear God, they are not happy 
here. They dare not — strange infatuation, — repeat their 
evening prayer ; — as if they supposed they could escape 
God's notice by neglecting to call upon him. At last, how- 
ever, they sink to sleep. 

The next morning they awake with the customary cheer* 



16 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Guilt a burdon. Means of rolief. 

fulness of childhood — until, as they look forth from their 
window, they see the clear ice-bound stream, which tempted 
them to sin, winding its way among the trees. They say 
nothing, but each feels guilty and sad. They meet their 
father and mother with clouded hearts, and every object at 
all connected with their transgression, awakens the remorse 
which destroys their happiness. They carry thus about with 
them a weary and a heavy burden. 

I suppose that in such cases as this, most boys would con- 
tinue to bear this burden, until at last they should become 
insensible to it, that is, until conscience is seared. But 
though by habit in sin the stings of remorse may be blunted, 
yet real peace never returns. By repeating transgression a 
great many times, we all come at last to feel a general and 
settled uneasiness of heart, which is a constant burden. Ask 
such an individual if he is unhappy. He tells you that he is 
not. He means, however, that he is not particularly unhappy 
just at that time. His burden is so uniform and constant 
that he comes to consider it at last as a necessary part of his 
existence. He has lost all recollection of what pure peace 
and happiness is. A man who has lived long by a water-fall, 
at last becomes so habituated to the noise, that silence seems 
a strange luxury to him. So multitudes, who have had an 
unquiet conscience for many years, without a single inter- 
val of repose, when they at last come and confess their sins, 
and find peace and happiness, are surprised and delighted 
with the neiv and strange sensation. 

This peace can not come by habit in sin. A seared con- 
science is not a relieved one. But what is the way by which 
peace of mind is to be restored in such a case as the above ? 
It is a very simple way. Happy would it be for mankind if 
it were more generally understood and practiced. 

Suppose one of these boys should say to himself, some day 
as he is walking alone, " I am not happy, and I have not 



CONFESSION. 17 



The boy's confession. His conversation with his father. 

been happy since I disobeyed my father on the ice. I wag 
very foolish to do that, for I have suffered more in con- 
sequence of it than ten times as much pleasure would be 
worth. I am resolved to go and confess the whole to my 
father, and ask him to forgive me, and then I shall be happy 
again." 

Having resolved upon this, he seeks the very first opportu- 
nity to relieve his mind. He is walking, we will imagine, 
by the side of his father, and for several minutes he hesitates 
— not knowing how to begin. He makes the effort however 
at last, and says in a sorrowful tone, 

" Father, I have done something very wrong." 

1 ' What is it, my son?" 

He hesitates and trembles, — and after a moment's paust, 
says, " I am very sorry that I did it." 

"My son," says the father, "I have observed, for a day 
or two, that you have not been happy, and you are evidently 
unhappy now. I know that you must have done something 
wrong. But you may do just as you please about telling me 
what it is. If you freely confess it, and submit to the pun- 
ishment, whatever it may be, you will be happy again ; if 
not, you will continue to suffer. Now you may do just as 
you please." 

" "Well, father, I will tell you all. Do you remember that 
you gave us leave to go upon the river and skate the other 
evening?" 

"Yes." 

" Well, I disobeyed you, and went upon the ice, where 
you forbade us to go. I have been unhappy ever since, and 
I resolved to-day that I would come and tell you, and ask 
you to forgive me." 

I need not detail the conversation that would follow. But 
there is not a child among the hundreds and perhaps thou- 
sands who will read this chapter, who does not fully under- 



18 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Confession of little faults. Happiness. The torn letter. 

stand, that by such a confession the boy will relieve himself 
of his burden, restore peace to his mind, and go away from 
his father with a light and happy heart. He will no more 
dread to meet him, and to hear the sound of his voice. He 
can now be happy with his sister again, and look upon the 
beautiful stream winding in the valley, without feeling his 
heart sink within him under a sense of guilt, — while all the 
time, perhaps, his brother, who would not come and acknowl- 
edge his sin, has his heart still darkened, and his countenance 
made sad by the gloomy recollection of unforgiven sin. Yes, 
confession of sin has an almost magic power in restoring 
peace of mind. 

Providence seems to have implanted this principle in the 
human heart, for the express purpose of having us act upon 
it. He has so formed us, that when we have done wrong, 
we can not feel at peace again until we have acknowledged 
our wrong to the person against whom it was done. And 
this acknowledgment of it removes the uneasiness as effect- 
ually as fire removes cold, or as water extinguishes fire. It 
operates in all cases, small as well as great, and is infallible 
in its power. And yet how slowly do young persons and 
even old persons learn to use it. The remedies for almost 
every external evil are soon discovered, and are at once 
applied ; but the remedy for that uneasiness of mind which 
results from having neglected some duty or committed some 
sin, and which consists in simple confession of it to the person 
injured, — how slowly is it learned, and how reluctantly 
practiced. 

I once knew a boy who was intrusted with a letter to be 
carried to a distant place. On his way, or just after his 
arrival, in attempting to take the letter out of his pocket 
suddenly, he tore it completely in two. He was in conster- 
nation. What to do he did not know. He did not dare to 
carry the letter in its mangled condition, and deliver it to 



CONFESSION. 19 



The torn letter. Peace of mind. The anonymous letter. 

the person to whom it was addressed, and he did not dare to 
destroy it. He did accordingly the most foolish thing he 
could do ; — he kept it for many days, doubting and waiting, 
and feeling anxious and unhappy whenever it came in his 
sight. At last he perceived that this was folly ; so he took 
the letter, carried it to the person to whom it was addressed, 
saying, 

" Here is a letter which I was intrusted with for you, and 
in taking it out of my pocket, I very carelessly tore it in two. 
I am sorry for it, but I have no excuse.' ' 

The receiver of the letter said it was of no consequence, 
and the boy went home suddenly and entirely relieved. 

My reader will say, " Why, this was a very simple way 
of getting over the difficulty. Why did he not think of it 
before ?" 

It was indeed a simple way. The whole story is so sim- 
ple, that it is hardly dignified enough to be introduced ; but 
it is true, and it exactly illustrates the idea that I am en- 
deavoring to enforce, namely, that in little things, as well as 
in great things, the confession of sin restores peace of mind. 

I will now mention one other case which illustrates the 
same general truth, but which is in one respect very different 
from all the preceding. 

A merchant was one morning sitting in his counting-room, 
preparing for the business of the day, when his boy entered 
with several letters from the Post Office. Among them was 
one in a strange handwriting and with the words, " Money 
inclosed" written upon the outside. As the merchant was 
not at that time expecting any money, his attention was first 
attracted to this letter. He opened it and read somewhat 
as follows : 

" , January 4, 1831. 

" Sir, — Some time ago I defrauded you of a certain sum 
of money. You did not know it then, and I suppose you 



20 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The anonymous letter. Reparation compared with confession. 

never would have known it, unless I had informed you. But 
I have had no peace of mind since it was done, and send you 
back the money in this letter. Hoping that God will forgive 
tin's and all my other sins, I am, yours, 



I remarked that this case was totally different from all the 
others in one respect. Reader, do you notice the difference ? 
It consists in this, viz. that here not only was the sin con- 
fessed, hut reparation was made. The man not only ac- 
knowledged the fraud, hut he paid back the money. And 
if any of my readers are but little acquainted with human 
nature, they may perhaps imagine that it was the reparation, 
and not the confession, which restored peace of mind. But 
I think I can show very clearly, that making reparation is 
not effectual. Suppose that this man, instead of writing the 
above letter, had just come into the store of the merchant, 
and asked to buy some article or other, and in paying for it, 
had managed dexterously to put into the hands of the clerk 
a larger sum than was due, so as to repay, without the mer- 
chant's knowledge, the whole amount of which he had de- 
frauded him. Do you think that this would have restored 
his peace of mind ? No, not even if he had thus secretly 
paid back double what he had unjustly taken. It was the 
confession; the acknowledgment of having done wrong, 
which really quieted his troubled conscience, and gave him 
peace. 

It is not probable that this confession was sufficient to 
make him perfectly happy again, — because it was incomplete. 
The reparation was perfect, but the acknoivledgment was 
not. The reader will observe that the letter has no name 
signed to it, and the merchant could not by any means dis- 
cover who was the writer of it. Now if the man had hon- 
estly told the whole — if he had written his name and place 
of residence, and described fully all the circumstances of the 



CONFESSION. - 21 



Confession of great Crimea, Effects of confession. • Punishment. 

original fraud, he would have been much more fully relieved. 
All confession which is intended to bring back peace of mind 
when it is gone, should be open and thorough. There are, 
indeed, many cases where, from peculiar circumstances, it is 
not the duty of an individual who has done wrong to make 
a full confession of it to any of his fellow-men. This, how- 
ever, does not affect the general principle, that the more full 
and free the confession is when one is made, the more perfect 
will be the restoration of peace. 

So strongly is this principle fixed by the Creator in the 
human heart, that men who have committed crimes to which 
the laws of the land annex the most severe public punish- 
ments, after enduring for some time in secrecy the remorse 
which crime almost always brings, have at last openly come 
forward, and surrendered themselves to the magistrate, and 
acknowledged their guilt, — and have felt their hearts relieved 
and lightened by receiving an ignominious public punish- 
ment, in exchange for the inward tortures of remorse. Even 
a murderer has been known to come forward to' relieve the 
horrors of his soul by confession, — though he knew that this 
confession would chain him in a dark stone cell, and after a 
short, but gloomy interval, bring him to an ignominious and 
violent end. 

My reader, you can test the power of confession, and en- 
joy the relief and happiness which it will bring, without 
paying so fearful a price as this ; — but these cases lead me 
to remark upon one other subject connected with confession 
— I mean 'punishment. Sometimes, as I before remarked, 
when a person confesses a wrong, he brings himself under 
the necessity of repairing the injur}' done, and at other times 
of submitting to 'punishment. Parents often forgive their chil- 
dren when they have done wrong, if they will only confess it ; 
and though this ought sometimes to be done, there is yet 
great danger that children, in such cases, will soon acquire 



22 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Story of the boys on the ice continued. 

a habit of doing wrong, and then coming to confess it with 
a careless air, as if it was not of much consequence, or rather 
as if confessing the sin destroyed it, and left them perfectly 
innocent. 

I should think, on this account, that the father whose sons 
had disobeyed him on the ice, would be much at a loss to 
know what to do, after one of his boys had so frankly ac- 
knowledged it. I can suppose him saying to his son, " Well, 
my son, I am glad you have told me freely all about this. 
You did very wrong, and I am very much at a loss to know 
what I ought to do. I will consider it, and speak to you by 
and by about it. In the mean time you may be assured 
that I forgive you from my heart, and if I should conclude 
to do any thing farther, it will not be because I am now 
displeased, but because I wish to save you effectually from 
the sad consequence of doing wrong in future." 

When the father is left to muse by himself upon the sub- 
ject, we may imagine him to be thinking as follows. 

" I should not have thought that my boys would have 
broken their promise and disobeyed me. I wonder if my 
eldest disobeyed also. The youngest only spoke of himself— 
shall I ask him ? — No. Each shall stand on independent 
ground. If the other sinned too, he too may come volun- 
tarily and obtain peace by confession, or he must continue 
to bear the tortures of self-reproach. And now if I take no 
further notice of the transgression which is already acknowl- 
edged, I am afraid that my son will the next time yield 
more easily to temptation, thinking that he has only to 
acknowledge it, in order to be forgiven. Shall I forbid 
their skating any more this winter ? — or for a month ? — or 
shall I require them, every time they return, to give an 
exact account where they have been ? — I wish I could for- 
give and forget the offense entirely, but I am afraid I ought 
not to do so." 



CONFESSION. 



To parents and teachers. Confession a privilege. 

Thus he would be perplexed ; and if he were a wise pa- 
rent, and under the influence of moral principle, and not of 
mere parental feeling, he would probably do something more 
than merely pass it by. The boy would find that confession 
to such a father is not merely nominal, — that it brings with 
it inconvenience, or deprivation of enjoyment, or perhaps 
positive punishment. Still he would rejoice in the opportu- 
nity to acknowledge his sins ; for the loss of a little pleasure. 
or the suffering of punishment, he would feel to be a very 
small price to pay for returning peace of mind, and he would 
fly to confession, as a refuge from self-reproach, whenever he 
had done wrong. 

Let the parents or the teachers who may read this, take 
this view of the nature of confession, and practice upon it in 
their intercourse with their children and their pupils. Al- 
ways meet them kindly when they come forward to ac- 
knowledge their faults. Sympathize with them in the strug- 
gle, which you know they must make at such a time, and 
consider how strong the temptation was which led them to 
sin. And in every thing of the nature of punishment which 
you inflict, be sure that the prevention of future guilt is your 
sole motive, and not the gratification of your own present 
feeling of displeasure. If this is done, those under your care 
will soon value confession as a privilege, and will often seek 
in it a refuge from inward suffering. 

Yes, an opportunity to acknowledge wrong of any kind, 
is a great privilege, and if any of my readers are satisfied 
that what I have been advancing on this subject is true, I 
hope they will prove by experiment the correctness of these 
principles. Almost every person has at all times some little 
sources of uneasiness upon Ins mind. They are not very 
well defined in their nature and cause, but still they exist. 
and they very much disturb the happiness. Now if 'you 
look within long enough to seize hold oi and examine these 



24 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Depression of spirits. 



feelings of secret uneasiness, you will find that, in almost 
every case, they are connected with something tvrong which 
you have done. That anxious brow of yours then is clouded 
with remorse ; — we call it by soft names, — care, solicitude, 
perplexity, — but it is generally a slight remorse, — so weak 
as not to force its true character upon your notice, but yet 
strong enough to destroy peace of mind. A great deal of 
what is called depression of spirits arises from this source 
There are duties which you do not faithfully discharge : or 
inclinations which you habitually indulge when you know 
they ought to be denied. Conscience keeps up, therefore, 
a continual murmur, but she murmurs so gently that you 
do not recognize her voice — and yet it destroys your rest. 
You feel restless and unhappy, and wonder what can be 
the cause. 

Let no one understand me to maintain that all the depres 
sion of spirits which exists in human hearts arises from a 
secret sense of guilt. I know that there is real solicitude 
about the future, unconnected with remorse for the past ; — 
and there is often a sinking of the spirits that results from 
bodily disease, which moral remedies will not reach. These 
cases are, however, comparatively few. A far greater pro- 
portion of the restlessness and of the corroding cares which 
reign in human hearts is produced, or at least is very much 
aggravated, by being comiected with guilt. 

I suppose some of my readers are perusing these pages 
only for amusement. They will be interested, perhaps, in 
the illustrations, and if of mature and cultivated minds, in 
the point to which I am endeavoring to make them tend. 
I hope, however, that there are some who are reading 
really and honestly for the sake of moral improvement. To 
those I would say : Do you never feel unquiet in spirit, 
restless or sad ? Do you never experience a secret uneasi- 
ness of heart, of which you do not know the exact cause, 



CONFESSION. 2o 



Remedy for depression of spirits. Careless confession. Anecdote. 

but which destroys, or at least disturbs your peace ? If 
you do, take this course. Instead of flying from those 
feelings when they come into your heart, advance boldly 
to meet them. Grasp and examine them. Ascertain their 
cause. You will find, in nine cases out of ten, that their 
cause is something wrong in your own conduct or charac- 
ter. Young persons will generally find something wrong 
toward their parents. Now, go and confess these faults. 
Do not endeavor to palliate or excuse them, but endeavor 
on the other hand to see their worst side, and if you confess 
them freely and fully, and resolve to sin no more, peace will 
return, at least, so far as these causes have banished it from 
your heart. 

After I had written thus far, I read these pages to a gen- 
tleman who visited me, and he remarked that before I closed 
the chapter, I ought to caution my youthful readers against 
acquiring the habit of doing wrong and then coming care- 
lessly to confess it, without any real sorrow, as though the 
acknowledgment atoned for the sin and wiped all the guilt 
away. 

Such confession is a mere form, and instead of exerting 
any salutary influence on the mind, it acts only as a lure to 
future sin. It is confession without penitence ; and confes- 
sion without penitence is mere pretence and hypocrisy. 

'I was once,' said he, 'visiting in a family, and while 
we were sitting at the fire, a little boy came in and did 
some wanton, willful mischief. 

"Why, my child," said the mother, " see what you have 
done. That was very wrong ; — but you are sorry for it, I 
suppose. Are you not ?" 

" Yes, Ma," said the boy carelessly, running away at the 
same time to play. 

"Yes," said the mother, "he is sorry. He does wrong 

B 



2C 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Heartless confession. 



An experiment. 



i S 

111 



sometimes, but then he is always sorry for it, and acknowl- 
edges it. You are sorry now, are you not, my son ?" 

" Yes, Ma," said the boy, as he ran caper- 
ing about the room, striking the furniture and 
his little sister with his whip. 

My friend thought that 
there was some danger 
that this sort of confes- 
sion might be made. 
And it is undoubtedly 
often made. But it 
does no good. Con- 
fession must come from 
the heart, or it will 
not relieve or improve 
the heart. 

This anecdote show r a 
the necessity of some 
punishment in all 
governments. If a fa- 
"yes, ma." ther forgives the dis- 

obedience of his children simply upon their confessing it, 
his children will often disobey, expecting to make peace by 
confession as a matter of course ; and the confession will thus 
become a mere useless form. 

A teacher once made a rule, that if any irregularity oc- 
curred in any of the classes, the assistant who heard the 
classes was to send the person in fault to him. At first the 
pupils felt this very much. One and another would come 
with tears in their eyes to acknowledge some fault, although 
it was perhaps only a very slight one. The teacher inflicted 
no punishment, but asked them to be careful in future, and 
sent them away kindly. Soon, however, they began to feel 
less penitent when they had done wrong. They came more 




CONFESSION. 27 



Sincere confession. Story of the dulled tool 

and more as a matter of form, until at last they would come 
and state their fault as carelessly as if they were merely 
giving their teacher a piece of indifferent information. No ; 
— confession must never be understood as making any atone- 
ment for sin. Whenever you acknowledge that you have 
done wrong, do it with sincere penitence, — and with a spirit 
which would lead you to make all the reparation in your 
power, if it is a case which admits of reparation, — to submit 
to the just punishment, if any is inflicted, — and always to 
resolve most firmly that you will sin no more. 

Let all my readers, then, whether old or young, look at 
once around them, and seek diligently for every thing wrong 
which they have done toward their fellows, and try the 
experiment of acknowledging the wrong in every case, that 
they may see how much effect such a course will have, in 
bringing peace and happiness to their hearts again. When, 
however, I say that every thing wrong ought to be acknowl- 
edged, I do not mean that it is, in every case, necessary to 
make a. formal confession in language. Acknowledgments 
may be made by actions, as distinctly and as cordially as by 
words. An example will best illustrate this. 

A journeyman in a carpenter's shop borrowed a plane of 
his comrade, and in giving it back to him it was accident- 
ally dropped and dulled. The lender maintained that the 
borrower ought to sharpen it, while the borrower said that 
it was not his fault that the plane fell, and thus an angry 
controversy arose between them. It would have taken but a 
few minutes to have sharpened the instrument, but after 
having once contended about it, each of the disputants 
was determined not to yield. The plane was laid down 
in its damaged state, each declaring that he would not 
sharpen it. 

The borrower, however, did not feel at ease, and as he lay 
down that night to rest, the thought of his foolish contention 



28 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



Story continued. Confession lo God. 

made him unhappy. He reflected, too, that since his friend 
had been willing to lend him his instrument, he ought to 
have borne, himself, all the risk of its return. He regretted 
that he had refused to do what now, on cool reflection, he 
saw was only his duty. 

On the following morning, therefore, he went half an hour 
earlier than usual to the shop, and while alone there, with 
the help of grindstone and hone, he put the unfortunate plane 
in the best possible order, — laid it in its proper place — and 
when his companion came in, he said to him pleasantly, 

" I wish you would try your plane, and see how it cut& 
this morning." 

Wow, was not this a most full and complete acknowledg- 
ment of having been in the wrong ? And yet there is not a 
syllable of confession in language. Cases will often thus 
occur, in which a confession may thus be made by something 
done. Any way by which you can openly manifest your 
conviction that you have done wrong, and your determina- 
tion to do so no more, is sufficient. The mode best for the 
purpose will vary with circumstances. Sometimes it will be 
by words, sometimes by writing, and sometimes by action. 
The only thing that is essential is, that the heart should feel 
what in these various ways it attempts to express. 

I doubt not now, but that many of my readers, who have 
taken up this book with a desire to find religious instruction 
in it, have been for some time wishing to have me come to 
the subject of the confession of sin to God. You feel that 
the greatest of all your transgressions have been committed 
against him ; and that you can have no true peace of mind 
until he has forgiven you. I have no doubt that this is the 
state of mind of very many of those who will read this 
chapter. But confession of sin is the same in its nature and 
tendency when made to God as when made to your fellow- 
man. When you have finished this chapter then, shut the 



CONFESSION. 29 

Confession to God. Anxiety unnecessary. Common mistakes. 

book, and go alone "before your Maker, and acknowledge all 
your sins. ' Acknowledge them frankly and fully, and en- 
deavor to see and feel the worst, not by merely calling your 
offences by harsh names, but by calmly looking at the aggra- 
vating circumstances. While you do this, do not spend your 
strength in trying to feel strong emotion. You can not feel 
emotion by merely trying to feel it. There is no necessity 
of prolonged terror, — no need of agony of body or of mind, 
— no need of gloom of countenance. Just go and sincerely 
acknowledge your sins to God, and ask him to forgive you 
through Jesus Christ, and he will, 

But perhaps some of you will say, " I am surprised to see 
the sentiment advanced, that there is no need of strong agita- 
tion of mind before we can be forgiven for sin. I am sure 
that there is often very strong feeling of tins kind. There 
is terror and agony of mind, and afterward the individual 
becomes a sincere Christian." 

It is true, there is sometimes strong and continued agita- 
tion in the mind of the sinner that repents, but it is only 
because those who suffer it are unwilling to yield to God, 
and confess their sins to him. As soon as this unwilling- 
ness is gone, and they come to their God and Savior with 
all their hearts, the mental suffering vanishes. I said that if 
you were ivilling now to confess your sins to God with sincere 
penitence, you may at once be happy. Of course, if you are 
unwilling,— if you see that you are sinning against him, and 
will not come and make peace, you then have indeed cause 
to tremble. 

There is a great mistake prevalent on this subject, espe- 
cially among the young, though the subject is often clearly 
enough explained, both from the press and the pulpit . 
God's command is, repe?it at once, and believe on the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and you shall have peace. I have, in this 
chanter used the word confess, instead of repent, for sincere 



SO YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



Common mistakes. Immediate repentance. 

confession is only a manifestation of penitence. Now ] 
do not find that the Bible requires any thing previous to 
repentance. It does not say that we must he miserable first, 
either for a week or a day or an hour. I never heard any 
minister urge upon his hearers, the duty of suffering anguish 
of mind, and all the horrors of remorse, a single moment, in 
order to prepare the soul for Christ. It is doubtless true, 
that persons do often thus suffer, and are perhaps led by it in 
the end to fly to the refuge. But they ought to liave fled 
to the refuge ivithout this suffering, in the beginning. The 
truth is, that God commands " men everywhere to repent/ 
It is a notorious fact, that they will not comply. When the 
duty of humbly confessing their sins to God is clearly 
brought before them, there is often so great a desire to 
continue in sin, that a very painful struggle continues for 
some time. Now this struggle is all our own fault, — it is 
something that we add, altogether; — God does not require 
it. His command is, Come to me at once. Ministers in 
the pulpit do not urge this continued struggle, while sin is 
cherished in the heart ; so far from desiring it are they, that 
they urge their hearers to come at once to the Savior and be 
happy ; — and when any of their hearers are suffering in con- 
sequence of their indecision, the pastor, so far from wishing 
them to continue in this state as a part of their duty, urges 
them with all his power to terminate it at once, by giving 
up their hearts to God and to happiness. And yet so 
reluctant are men to give up their hearts to God, and so 
exceedingly common is this guilty struggle, that by the 
young it is often considered as a painful part of duty. 
They think they can not become Christians without it. Some 
strive to awaken it and continue it, and are sad because they 
can not succeed. Others, who are serving their Maker, and 
endeavoring to grow in grace and to prepare for heaven, 
feel but little confidence in his sympathy or affection foi 



CONFESSION. 31 



Salvation by Christ. 



them, because just before they concluded to yield to God, sin 
did not make such violent and desperate efforts in their hearts, 
as in some others, to retain its hold. 

No, my reader, there is no necessity of any prolonged 
struggle, or suffering. If this chapter has led you to be 
grilling to confess your sins, you may confess them now, and 
from this moment be calm, and peaceful, and happy. 

My readers will recollect that I mentioned in the early 
part of this chapter two points connected with confession, 
namely, reparation and punishment. In confessing sins to 
God, we have no reparation to him to make, and no punish- 
ment to suffer. We have a Savior, and we fly to him. He 
makes reparation, and he has already suffered for us. We 
must come trusting to him. I hope very many of my readers 
will see that both duty and happiness urge them to take the 
simple course I have endeavored to describe and illustrate, 
and that they will now take it, and follow me through the 
remaining chapters of this book with hearts bent on loving 
and serving God. 



32 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Story of the infant school. The new scholar. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE FRIEND. 
" To whom shall we go ?" 

There is a very excellent infant school in one of the chiet 
towns of Switzerland, where many young children are col- 
lected, and placed under the care of a most kind and faithful 
superintendent and assistant, to receive moral and intel- 
lectual instruction. Whenever a new pupil is admitted, she 
looks with fear and trembling upon the strange scene before 
her. A large open room is filled with the children, who are 
seen standing in rows or collected in busy groups — while in 
the pleasant play-ground, verdant with grass and trees, many 
others are seen full of activity and happiness. 

It is the custom whenever a new scholar enters the school, 
for the teacher to collect all the children in the great room, 
extending them in a line around it ; then he walks into the 
midst of them, leading the little stranger by the hand, and 
something like the following conversation ensues. 

Teacher. " Here is a little girl who has come to join our 
school. She is a stranger, and is afraid. Will you all prom- 
ise to treat her kindly ?" 

Pupils. (All answering together.) " Yes, sir, we will." 

Teacher. " She has told me that she will try to be a good 
girl and to do her duty ; but sometimes she will forget, I am 
afraid, and sometimes she will yield to temptation and dc 
Wron£. Now which of the older children will be her little 



THE FRIEND. 33 



The protector appointed. • Power and sympathy. 

friend, to be with her for a few days till she becomes ac- 
quainted with the school, and tell her what she ought to do. 
and help her to watch herself, that she may avoid doing 
wrong ? : ' 

Several voices at once. (; I will, I will, sir." 

The teacher then selects from those who thus volunteer, 
one of the best and oldest children, and constitutes her the 
friend and protector of the stranger. The protector and her 
charge become thenceforth constant companions. They are 
together wherever they go. A strong mutual attachment 
springs up between them. If the stranger is injured in any 
way, the protector feels aggrieved : kindness shown to one 
touches almost as effectually the other, and thus the trem- 
bling stranger is guided and encouraged, and led on to duty 
and to strength by the influence of her protector, though that 
protector is only another child. 

We all need a protector, especially in our moral interests. 
The human heart seems to be formed to lean upon something 
stronger than itself for support. We are so surrounded with 
difficulties and temptations and dangers here, that we need 
a refuge in which we can trust. Children find such a pro- 
tector and such a refuge in their parents. How much safer 
you feel in sickness if your father or your mother is by your 
bedside. How often, in a summer evening, when a dark 
heavy cloud is thundering in the sky, and the window glit- 
ters with the brightness of the lightning, do the children of 
a family sigh for their father's return, and feel relieved and 
almost safe when he comes among them. But when man i? 
mature he can find no earthly protector. He must go alone 
unless he has a friend above. 

A protector and friend ought to possess two distinct quali- 
fications, which it is very difficult to find united. He ought 
to be our superior both in knowledge anx! power, so that we 
can confide in his protection ; and yet he ought to be in the 



34 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A sure protector. 



same circumstances ivith ourselves, that lie may understand 
and appreciate our trials and difficulties. 

Now my object in this chapter is to endeavor to show my 
readers that they need, and that they can have, just such a 
protector and friend as is above described, — one that has 
power to save to the uttermost, and yet one that knows by 
his own experience all their trials and cares. It is certain 
that if any of you go now and confess your sins to God, and 
begin a life of piety, that you will, without aid from above, 
wander away into sin, forget your resolutions, displease God 
more than ever, and more than ever destroy your own peace 
of mind. I wish, therefore, to persuade all those who desire 
henceforth to do their duty, to come now and unite them- 
selves in indissoluble bonds with the moral protector and 
friend, whose character I am about to describe. 

In the Epistle to the Hebrews, 2d chapter and 16th verse, 
there occurs the following remarkable passage : — " For verily 
he," that is, Christ, "took not on him the nature of angels, 
but he took on him the seed of Abraham. Wherefore in all 
things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, 
that he might be a merciful and faithful high-priest 
in things pertaining to God." Here you see how the two 
qualifications named above were united in our Savior. 
He might have come from heaven and died upon the cross 
to make atonement for our sins, without suffering, as he di 1, 
so long a pilgrimage below, as a "man of sorrows and ac- 
quainted with grief." But he came and lived here thirty 
years, tasting of every bitter cup which we have to drink, in 
order that he might know by experience all our trials and 
troubles, and be able more effectually to sympathize with us 
and help us. He took not on him the nature of angels, but he 
took on him the seed of Abraham, that is, the nature of man. 

I wish my readers would pause and reflect a moment upon 
these two elements in the character of a valuable protector, 



THE FRIEND. 35 



Story of the sailor boy. The captain's want of sympathy. 

— namely, power and sympathy, and consider how seldom 
they are united. I will give one or two examples which 
may help to illustrate the subject. 

A mother with a large family, and with but slender means 
to provide for their wants, concluded to send her eldest son 
to sea. She knew that though the toils and labors of a sea- 
faring life were extreme, they could be bonze, and that they 
brought with them many pleasures and many useful results. 
She agreed, therefore, with a sea captain, a distant relative 
of hers, to admit her boy on board his ship. The captain 
became really interested in his new friend — said that he 
would take good care of him, teach him his duty on ship- 
board, and help him on in the world, if he was diligent and 
faithful. 

The boy looked with some dread upon the prospect of 
bidding farewell to his mother, to his brothers and sisters, 
and his quiet home, to explore unknown and untried scenes, 
and to encounter the dangers of a stormy ocean. He how- 
ever bade all farewell, and was soon tossing upon the waters, 
feeling safe under his new protector. He soon found, how- 
ever, that the captain, as a protecting friend, had power, but 
that he had not sympathy. He would sometimes, in a 
stormy night, when the masts were reeling to and fro, and 
the bleak wind was whistling through the frozen rigging, 
compel him to go aloft, though the poor boy, unaccustomed 
to the giddy height, was in an agony of terror, and in real 
danger of falling headlong to the deck. The captain had 
forgotten what were his own feelings when he was himself a 
boy, or he would probably have taught this necessary part 
of seamanship in a more gentle and gradual manner. He 
thought that the boy ought to learn to go aloft, and his want 
of sympathy with the feelings of one so young, led him to a 
course which was severe, and in fact cruel, though not in- 
tentionally so. 



.36 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



The little ship. The captain a real friend. 

The captain never spoke to his young charge, excepting 
to command him. He took no interest in his boyish thoughts 
and feelings. Once the boy spent all his leisure time indus 
triously in rigging out a little ship complete. " This," 
thought he, " will please the captain. He wants me to learn, 
and this will show him that I have been learning." As he 
went on, however, from day to day, the captain took no no- 
tice of his work. A word or a look of satisfaction from his 
protector would have gratified him exceedingly. But no ; — 
the stern, weather-beaten officer could not sympathize with 
a child or appreciate his feelings at all ; and one day when 
the boy had been sent away from his work on some brief 
errand, the captain came upon deck, and after looking around 
a moment, he said to a rough-looking man standing there, 
" I say, Jack, I wish you would clear away a little here : coil 
those lines — and that boy's bauble there, — you may as well 
throw it overboard ; he never will make any thing of it." 

Commands on board ship must be obeyed ; and the poor 
cabin-boy came up from below just in time to catch the cap- 
tain's words, and to see his little ship fly from the sailor's 
hands into the waves. It fell upon its side — its sails were 
drenched with the water, and it fast receded from view. 
The boy went to his hammock and wept bitterly. His 
heart was wounded deeply, but the stern captain did not 
know it. How could he sympathize with the feelings' of a 
child ? 

And yet this captain was the real friend of the boy. He 
protected him in all great dangers, and took good care of him 
when in foreign ports, that he should not be exposed to sick- 
ness or to temptation. When they returned home he recom- 
mended him to another ship, where, through the captain's 
influence, he had a better situation and higher wages, — and 
he assisted him in various ways for many years. This boy 
had thus a protector who possessed poiver, but not sympathy 



THE FRIEND. ' 37 



The Sartor. His thirty years of life. 

This boy however might have had a friend who would 
have sympathized with him fully, hut who would have had 
no 'power. I might illustrate this case also, by supposing 
in the next ship which he should enter, that the captain 
should feel no interest in him at all, but that he should 
have with him there a brother, or another boy of his own 
age, w r ho would be his constant companion and friend, — 
entering into all his feelings, sympathizing with him in his 
enjoyments and in his troubles, — but yet having no power 
to protect him from real evils, or to avert any dangers which 
might threaten. I might suppose such a case, and following 
the boy in imagination into the new scene, I might show 
that sympathy alone is not sufficient. But it is not neces- 
sary to do this. All my readers, doubtless, already fully 
understand the distinction between these two, and the neces- 
sity that they should be united in such a protector as we all 
need. 

The great Friend of sinners unites these two essential qual- 
ifications. He is able to save to the uttermost all that come 
unto God through him, and he can fully sympathize with us 
in all our trials and cares ; for he has been upon the earth, — 
suffering all that we have to suffer, and drinking of every 
cup which is presented to our lips. He became flesh, that 
is, he became a man, and dwelt among us ; so that, as the 
Bible most forcibly and beautifully expresses it, " we have 
not an high-priest which can not be touched with a feeling 
of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we 
are, yet without sin." 

It must be borne in mind that our Savior did not com- 
mence his public ministrations till he was thirty years of 
age. Thirty years he spent — in what ? Why, in learning, 
by slow and painful experience, ivhat it is to be a human 
being in this world of trial. Have I a reader who is only 
ten or twelve years of age ? Remember, the Savior was 



38 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Story of Howard, the philanthropist. 



once as young as you, — exposed to. such little difficulties 
and trials as you are. He has gone through the whole, 
from infancy upward, and he does not forget. You may be 
sure, then, that he is ready to sympathize with you. If any 
thing is great enough to interest you, you may be sure it is 
great enough to interest him in your behalf. He remem- 
bers his own childhood, and will sympathize with the feel- 
ings of yours. 

This plan of coming into our world and becoming one of 
us, and remaining in obscurity so long, that he might learn 
by experiment what the human condition is, in all its details, 
was certainly a very extraordinary one. It is spoken of as 
very extraordinary everywhere in the Bible. 

You have all heard of Howard, the philanthropist. When 
he was thirty or forty years of age, there were, everywhere 
in Europe, jails and dungeons filled with wretched prisoners, 
some of whom were guilty and some innocent. They were 
crowded together in small, cold, damp rooms. Their food 
was scanty and bad, — dreadful diseases broke out among 
them; and when this was the case, they were, in a vast 
multitude of cases, left to suffer and to die in unmitigated 
agony. Very few knew their condition, and there were 
none to pity or relieve them, until Howard undertook the 
task. He left his home in England and went forth, encoun- 
tering every difficulty and every discouragement, until he had 
explored thoroughly this mass of misery and brought it to 
public view, and had done every thing he could to mitigate 
its severity. 

This was extraordinary enough, and it attracted universal 
attention. All Europe was surprised that a man should 
devote years of his life to a most arduous and hazardous 
labor, thus exposing himself to the most loathsome influences 
and to the worst diseases, without any prospect of remunera- 
tion, and all for the sole purpose of relieving the sufferinga 



THE FRIEND 



Imaginary scene. The Savior. 

of criminals, — of men whom the world has cast off as unfit 
for human society. It was, I acknowledge, extraordinary ; 
— but what would have been the sensation produced, if 
Howard could not have gained admission to these scenes, 
so as effectually to accomplish his object, without becoming 
himself a prisoner, and thus sharing for a time the fate of 
those whom he was endeavoring to save ? Suppose he 
should consent to this. Imagine him approaching for this 
purpose some dreary prison. He passes its dismal thresh- 
old, and the bolts and bars of the gloomiest dungeon are 
turned upon him. He lays aside the comfortable dress of 
the citizen for the party-colored garb of confinement and 
disgrace. He holds out his arm for the manacles, and lies 
down at night upon his bed of straw, and lingers away 
months, or perhaps years of wretchedness, for no other pur- 
pose than that he may fully know what the icretchedness of 
imprisonment is. He thus looks misery in the face, and 
takes it by the hand, and he emerges at last from his cell, 
emaciated by disease, and worn out by the gloom of perpet- 
ual night, — and his heart sickened by the atmosphere of sin 
and shame. Suppose he had done this, how strongly could 
he, after it, sympathize with the sufferings of a prisoner, and 
how cordially and with what confidence can the inmates o^ 
those abodes come to him with their story of woe. 

Now, we have such a Savior as this. He has been 
among us. He has himself experienced every kind of trial 
and suffering which we have to endure. So that if we 
choose him for our friend, we may come to him on even 7 
occasion, sure of finding in him not only sympathy to feel 
for us, but poiver to relieve us. Tso matter what may be 
the source of our trial, whether great or small : if it is great 
enough to interest us, it is great enough to interest him for 
us. Perhaps some young child who reads this has been 
pained to the heart by the unkindness of some one in whom 



9 

40 10UNG CHRISTIAN. 



Human sympathy. 



he had reposed all his confidence. The action which showed 
this neglect or unkindness was so trifling, that possibly the 
little sufferer feels that no one can sympathize with him in 
a case of sorrow apparently so small. But Jesus Christ was 
once as young a child as you ; he too, doubtless, had com- 
panions and friends, and if he did not experience unkind- 
ness and ingratitude at their hands, childhood was the only 
time of his life in which he was free from these injuries. 
He, doubtless, knows them full well ; and there is one thing 
in which the sympathy of our Savior differs from that of 
every other friend — he judges not from the magnitude of 
the cause of sorrow, but from the real effect of that cause 
upon the heart which suffers it. If a child is agitated by a 
trifling cause, he looks at the greatness of the agitation and 
suffering, — not at the insignificance of the cause. But it is 
not so with men : — they look at the outward causes alone. 

In all the greater trials of life, too, I mean those which 
result from greater and more permanent causes, we may 
confidently expect sympathy and fellow-feeling if we come 
to the Savior. Does poverty threaten you ? He knows 
what poverty is better than you; for years, he knew not 
where to lay his head. Do you suffer from the unkind treat- 
ment of others ? He has tried this in the extreme, and can 
fully sympathize with you. Do you weep over the grave of 
a beloved friend ? Jesus wept from this cause long before 
you. In fact, he went about the world, not only to do good 
but to taste of suffering, that he might know, with all the 
vividness of experience, exactly what suffering, in all its 
variety, is. 

We all love sympathy when we are suffering, — but there 
is one occasion on which we feel the need of it still more — 
I mean in temptation. We need sympathy when we are 
struggling with temptation, and still more when we have 
done wrong, and are reaping its bitter fruits. A dreadfuJ 



THE FRIEND. 41 



The murderer's celL The keeper's kindness to the prisoner. 

murder was once committed, which aroused the alarm and 
indignation of an extensive community ; every one expressed 
the strongest abhorrence of the deed, and made the greatest 
efforts to procure the arrest and punishment of the guilty 
man. And this was right ; though with this feeling there 
should have existed, in every heart, a sentiment of compassion 
for the sufferings which the wretched criminal was doomed 
to endure. 

He was arrested, tried, and condemned to die ; and a few 
hours before the execution of the sentence, I went with a 
clergyman who often visited him, to see him in his cell. 

"When we had entered his gloomy prison, the jailer 
closed behind us its massive iron door, and barred and 
locked it. We found ourselves in a spacious passage, with 
a stone floor, and stone walls, and a stone roof, and with 
narrow iron doors on each side, leading to the cells of the 
various prisoners. We ascended the stairs, and found 
every story assuming the same rigid features of iron and 
stone. In a corner of the upper story was the cell of the 
murderer. 

A little grated window opened into the passage-way. 
The jailer tapped softly at the window, and informed the 
prisoner, in a kind and gentle tone, that the clergyman had 
come. 

"Should you like to have us come La?" asked the jailer. 
The prisoner instantly assented, and the jailer unbolted 
and unbarred the door. "Strange!" thought I. "'Here is 
a criminal who has outraged the laws of both G-od and man, 
and a whole commmiity has arisen in justice, and declared 
that he is unworthy to live, — and to-morrow, by the hand of 
violence, he is to die. And yet his very keeper treats him 
so tenderly that he will not come into his cell without first 
obtaining permission !" 

As we passed through the narrow aperture in the thick 



42 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Tho prisoner. 



gtone wall which the iron door had closed, the whole aspect 
of the room and of the prisoner was one which effectually 
removed my surprise that he should be treated with kind 
ness and compassion. He was pale and haggard, and he 
trembled very exceedingly. He seemed exhausted by the 
agony of remorse and terror. A few hours before, his wife 
had been in the cell to bid him a final farewell, and the 
next day he was to be led forth to execution in the presence 
of thousands. In the mean time the walls, and floor, and 
roof of his cell — of continued, uninterrupted stone and iron 
— seemed to say to him wherever he looked, " You shall 
not escape" It seemed as if the eye would have rested 
with a feeling of relief upon a board or a curtain, even if it 
concealed a stone behind, — with so forbidding and relentless 
a gripe did this dismal cell seem to hold its unhappy tenant. 
As I looked between the heavy iron bars of his grated 




THE PRISONER. 



THE FRIEND. 43 



The Savior's sympathy. Common distrust of it. 

window upon the distant plains and hills, and thought how 
ardently he must wish that he were once more innocent 
and free, I forgot the cold-blooded brutality of the crime, and 
only mourned over the misery and ruin of the man. 

The world does indeed ordinarily sympathize in some 
degree with a great criminal like this, in the remorse and 
anguish which he endures ; but in general men are indig- 
nant with the offender if his crime is great, and they treat 
him with ridicule and scorn if it is small. Jesus Christ, 
however, pities a sinner. He loved us while we were yet in 
our sins ; he came to save us. He came, not to inflict the 
punishment which our guilt deserved, but to redeem us from 
the sufferings into which it had brought us. 

This is everywhere very apparent in his whole history. 
Often the greatest sinners came to him, and he never re- 
proached them, when they came with a humble and penitent 
heart. He always endeavored to relieve them of their 
burden of guilt, and to give them assurance of pardon and 
peace. On one occasion, how kindly does he say to a very 
guilty sinner, " I do not condemn thee, go and sin no more." 
Instead of intending to add to the burden of guilt which 
oppresses the sinner, by exhibiting coldly the contrast of his 
own bright example, or by his severe rebukes, he says, 
" Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and 
I will give you rest." 

Persons who wish to be saved from sin, very often distrust 
the Savior's willingness to receive them. They acknowledge, 
in general terms, his kindness and compassion, and think that 
he is, in all ordinary cases, willing to save the chief of sin- 
ners ; but they think there is something peculiar in their 
case, which should prevent them from coming to him in 
confidence. I have observed that this peculiarity is almost 
always one of two things : — 1 . That they do not engage 
ardently enough in the work of salvation ; or, 2. That 



44 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Distrust of the Savior's sympathy. 



they have often resolved before, and broken their resolu- 
tions. 

Do not some of you, my readers, feel unwilling to come to 
the Savior, because you think that you do not feel a sufficient 
interest in the subject ? You know that you are sinners, and 
you wish to be free from sin. You would like such a friend 
as I describe the Savior to be, but you have no sufficiently 
strong conviction, and you think the promises are not for 
you. 

Or perhaps some of you, though you feel a deep interest 
in the subject, may be discouraged and disheartened by the 
sins you find yourselves constantly committing, and by your 
repeatedly broken resolutions. You suppose that the Savior 
must be wearied out with your continued backslidings and 
sins, and you are ready to give up the contest, and to think 
that final holiness and peace is not for you. 

Now, there are throughout our land vast multitudes who 
are vainly endeavoring to make their hearts better, in order 
to recommend themselves to their Savior's care. You must 
indeed endeavor by every effort to make your heart better, 
but not as a means of recommending yourself to the Savior. 
Come to him at once, just as you are, and seek his sympathy 
and assistance in the work. 

Inquirers after the path of piety are very slow to learn 
that the Savior is the friend of sinners. They will not learn 
that he comes to help us while we are in our trials and diffi 
culties, not after we get out of them. How many say in 
their hearts, I must overcome this sin, or free myself from 
that temptation, and then I will come to the Savior. I must 
have clearer views of my own sins, or deeper penitence, or 
awaken true love to God in my heart, and then, but not till 
ihen, can I expect Christ to be my friend. What ! do you 
suppose that it is the office of Jesus Christ to stand aloof 
fr om the struggling sinner until he has, by his own unaideH 



THE FRIEND. 45 



Illustration. The case of the sick man. Jesus Christ a physician. 

strength, and without assistance or sympathy, finished the 
contest, and then only to come and offer his congratulations 
after the victory is "won ? Is this such a Savior as you 
imagine the Bible to describe ? 

At the door of one of the chambers of the house in which 
you reside,- you hear, let us suppose, a moaning sound, as of 
one in distress. You enter hastily, and rind a sick man 
writhing in pain, and struggling alone with his sufferings. 
As soon as you understand the case, you say to him, 

" We must send for a physician immediately ; there is one 
at the next door who will come in a moment." 

" no," groans out the sufferer, " I am in no state to send 
for a physician. My head aches dreadfully — I am almost 
distracted with pain. I fear I am dangerously ill." 

"Then you must have a physician immediately," you re 
ply. "Hun and call him," you say, turning to an attendant, 
"ask him to come as soon as possible." 

" stop ! stop !" says the sick man, " wait till I get a little 
easier ; — my breath is very short and my pulse very feeble, 
and besides I have been getting worse and worse every half- 
hour for some time, and I am afraid there is no hope for me. 
Wait a little while, and perhaps I may feel better, and then 
I will send for him." 

You would turn after hearing such words, and say in a 
gentle voice to the attendant, "He is wandering in mind. 
Call the physician immediately." 

Xow Jesus Christ is a physician. He comes to heal your 
sins. If you wish to be healed, come to him at once, just as 
you are. The soul that waits for purer motives, or for a 
deeper sense of guilt, or for a stronger interest in the subject, 
before it comes to Christ, is a sick person waiting for health 
before he sends for a physician. Jesus Christ came to help 
you in obtaining these feelings, not to receive you after you 
have made yourself holy without him. You have, I well 



46 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Struggling with temptation. 



know, great and arduous struggles to make with sin. Just 
as certainly as you attempt them alone, you will become 
discouraged and fail. Come to the Savior before you begin 
them, for I do assure you, you will need help. 

One great object which our Savior had in view in re- 
maining so long in the world, was to understand our temp- 
tations, and the contests which they bring up in the heart. 

It is very often the case, that persons are struggling with 
temptations and sins almost in solitude, and those to whom 
they are directly accountable do not appreciate the circum- 
stances in which they are placed, and the efforts which they 
make to overcome temptation. I presume that teachers very 
often censure their pupils with a severity which they would 
not use if they remembered distinctly the temptations and 
trials of their own childhood. Perhaps a little boy is placed 
on a seat near his intimate friend, and commanded upon pain 
of some very severe punishment not to whisper. He tries to 
refrain, and succeeds perhaps for half an hour in avoiding 
every temptation. At last some unexpected occurrence or 
some sudden thought darts into his mind, — his resolutions are 
forgotten, — the presence of the master, the regulations of the 
school, and the special prohibition to him, all flit from his 
mind, and after the forbidden act, which occupied but an 
instant, is done, he immediately awakes to the consciousness 
of having disobeyed, and looks up just in time to see the stern 
eye of his teacher upon him speaking most distinctly of dis- 
pleasure and of punishment. Now if any severe punishment 
should follow such a transgression, how disproportionate 
would it be to the guilt ! The boy may indeed have done 
wrong, — but how slight must the wrong be in the view of 
any one who could look into the heart, and estimate truly its 
moral movements in such a case ! It is unquestionably true, 
and every wise teacher is fully aware of it, that in school 
discipline there is constant danger that the teacher will estr- 



THE FRIEND, 47 



Tbe benevolent teachor. The teacher imagined a scholar. 

mate erroneously the moral character of the actions that he 
witnesses, just because he has forgotten the feelings of child- 
hood. He can not appreciate its temptations or understand 
its difficulties, and many a little struggler with the inclina- 
tions which would draw him from duty, is chilled and dis- 
couraged in his efforts, because the teacher never know T s that 
he is making an effort to do his duty, or at least never under- 
stands the difficulties and trials which he finds in his way. 

Suppose now that such a teacher should say to himself, 
and suppose that he could by some magic power carry the 
plan into effect, — " I will become a little child myself, and 
go to school. I will take these same lessons which I assign, 
and endeavor to keep, myself, the rales which I have been 
endeavoring to enforce. I will spend two or three weeks in 
this way, that I may learn by actual experience what the 
difficulties and temptations and trials of childhood are." 
Suppose he could carry this plan into effect, and laying aside 
his accumulated knowledge, and that strength of moral prin- 
ciple which long habit had formed, should assume the youth, 
and the spirits, and all the feelings of childhood, and should 
take his place in some neighboring school, unknown to his 
new companions, to partake with them in all their trials and 
temptations. He toils upon a perplexing lesson, that he may 
know by experience what the perplexity of childhood is ; he 
obeys the strictest rules, that he may understand the diffi- 
culty of obedience ; and he exposes himself to the unkind- 
ness or oppression of the vicious boys, that he may learn how 
hard it is patiently to endure them. After fully making the 
experiment, he resumes his former character and returns to 
his station of authority. Now if this were done, how cor- 
dially, how much better, can he afterward sympathize with 
his pupils in their trials, and with what confidence can they 
come to him in all their cares. 

Now we have such a Savior as this. The Word was 



48 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Sympathy of Christ. Howard. 

made flesh, that is, became man and dwelt among us. He 
took not on him the nature of angels, but the nature of man. 
li Wherefore it behooved him in all things to be made like 
unto his brethren, tliat he might be a merciful and faithful 
high-priest. 11 " We have not an high-priest that cannot be 
touched with the feelings of our infirmities, but was in all 
points tempted like as we are." 

My reader will doubtless observe that this case is some- 
what similar to that of Howard, which was described in the 
former part of this chapter ; and perhaps you may imagine 
that if my paragraphs had been well arranged, this suppo- 
sition would have come in connection with that. But no.. 
I was then upon the subject of sympathy with suffering. 
I imagined Howard to become a prisoner, that he might 
understand and sympathize with the sufferings of prisoners. 
Now I am speaking of the subject of temptation and strug- 
gle against sin, and I imagine the teacher to become a child, 
that he may appreciate the trials and temptations of child 
hood. 

We may trust in the sympathy of our Savior in this last 
respect as well as in the other. His disposition to feel com- 
passion and sympathy, and not indignation, in regard to those 
who had brought themselves into difficulty by doing wrong, 
was very often manifested while he was upon the earth, and 
we may be sure his character is not in this respect altered 
now. 

But it is time that I should bring this chapter to a close. 
The sum and substance of what I have been endeavoring to 
illustrate in it is this : — If you confess all your sins, and seek 
the forgiveness of them in the way in which the Gospel points 
out, and resolve henceforth to lead a life of pisty, you will 
need a friend and helper. You will want sympathy, both 
in your sufferings and in your struggles ivith sin. Jesus 
Christ will sympathize with you and help you in both. 



THE FK.UEXD. 



19 



The ueueyuient gentleman. 



Sympathy of Christ 



I once knew a gentleman whose fortune rendered him in- 
dependent, but whose medical knowledge and skill were of a 
very high order, that practiced the medical profession among 
the poor constantly, without fee or reward, for the simple 
purpose of relieving suffering. The only things necessary to 
secure his attention were, to he sick, to need his aid, and to 
send for him. He did not wish his patients to become con- 
valescent before he would visit them ; nor did he inquire 
how often they had been sick before. There was one poor 
lad who took cold, I 
believe, by breaking; 
through the ice in the 
winter, at an air-hole, 
and he was rendered 
a helpless cripple for 
years ; and yet this gen- 
tleman, or some of his 
family, visited him al- 
most daily during all 
that time, and instead 
of getting tired of the 
patient, they became 
more and more inter- 
ested in him to the last. 
Now our Reedemer is 
such a physician. He 

does not ask any preparation before we send for him ; nor 
does he get tired of us because he has helped us back from 
our wanderings to duty and happiness a great many times. 
Some one asked him once, how often he ought to forgive his 
brother after repeated transgressions. " Shall I forgive him 
.seven times?" was the question. " Forgive," said the 
Savior, "not only seven times, but seventy times seven." 
How strange it is, that after this a backsliding Christian 

C 




ccv- 



THE AIR-HOLE 



50 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The bruised reed. 



can ever hesitate to come back at once after he has wan 
dered, with an assurrance that God will forgive. 

He will not break the bruised reed. How beautiful and 
striking an illustration of our Redeemer's kindness to those 
who have sinned. A planter walks out into his grounds, 
and among the reeds growing there, there is one — young, 
green and slender — which a rude blast has broken. Its ver- 
dant top is drenched in the waters which bathe its root ; and 
perhaps he hesitates for a moment whether to tear it from 
the spot and throw it away. But no ; he raises it to its 
place, carefully adjusts its bruised stem, and sustains it by a 
support, till it once more acquires its former strength and 
beauty. Now Jesus Christ is this planter. Every back- 
sliding humbled Christian is a bruised reed ; and how 
many are now thriving and vigorous, that in the hour of 
humiliation have been saved by his tenderness and care. 

Come then to this Friend, all of you. Bring all youi 
interests and hopes and fears to him ; he will sympathize in 
them all. And whenever you have wandered, never hesitate 
a moment to return. 



PRAYER. 51 

Prayer. The absent sou. 



CHAPTER III. 



PRAYER. 



u Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will do it," 

As I have on this subject many separate points to discuss ; 
I shall arrange what I have to say under several distinct 
heads, that the view presented may be the better understood 
and remembered. 

I. The power of prayer This subject may be best illus- 
trated by describing a case. 

A kind and affectionate father, whose son had arrived at 
an age which rendered it necessary for him to prepare for 
the business of life, concluded to send him from home. 
Their mutual attachment was strong, and though each knew 
it was for the best, each looked upon the approaching sepa- 
ration with regret. The father felt solicitous for the future 
eharacter and happiness of his boy, as he was now to go 
forth into new temptations and dangers ; and the son was 
reluctant to leave the quiet and the happiness of his father's 
fireside for the bustle of business and the rough exposures of 
the crowded city, where he was for the future to find a 
home. The hour of separation, however, at last arrived, 
and the father says to him at parting, 

" My son, be faithful, do your duty, and you will be hap- 
py. Remember your parents — the efforts which they have 
made, and the affection that they now feel for you. Watch 
against temptation, arid shun it. I will supply all youi 



62 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The fathor's promises. Its implied limitations. Improper request* 

wants. When you wish for any thing, write to me and you 
shall have it. And may God bless you, and keep you safe 
and happy." 

My reader will observe that this language, which is not 
fiction, but fact, for it has in substance been, addressed in a 
thousand instances under the circumstances above described, 
contains a promise to send the son ivhatever he shall ask for. 
But the meaning of it is not — and no boy would understand 
it to be — that every possible request which he might make 
would be certainly granted. Although the promise is made 
in the few simple words, " whenever you want any thing, 
write to me and you shall have it," yet the meaning express- 
ed fully would be, whenever you wish for any thing, which 
as far as you can see is proper for you, if you will let me 
know it I will send it, unless I see that it is better for you 
not to have it, or unless there are other special reasons which 
prevent my complying with your request." 

Now a boy may in such a case make a great many re- 
quests which the father might refuse without being consid- 
ered by any one as breaking his promise. 

1 . He may ask something which the father knows would, 
in the end, injure him. Suppose he should request his 
father to supply him with double his usual quantity of 
pocket money, and the father should see clearly that the 
effect of granting the request would be to cultivate in him 
careless and extravagant habits of expenditure, and to divert 
his attention from his business. In such a case the father 
would undoubtedly refuse, and no one would imagine that 
he was breaking his promise. The boy, if he had acted 
right, would not have asked such a favor. 

2. He may ask something which, if granted, would inter- 
fere ivith the rights or happiness of others. There was a 
watch, we will imagine, hanging up in his father's house, 
used by all the family, — the only time-piece accessible to 



PRAYER. 53 



K^quests in an improper manner. The letter. 

them. Now suppose that the boy, growing selfish and vain, 
and thinking that his importance among his comrades would 
be increased by his wearing a watch, should write to ask his 
father to send this family watch to him. "Who w T ould think 
that his father would be bound to comply on account of his 
parting promise to his son to supply all his wants ? Chris- 
tians very often make such selfish requests, and wonder why 
their prayers are not heard. A farmer who has one field 
which needs watering, will pray for rain with great earnest- 
ness, forgetting that there are ten thousand fields all around 
his own, and that they perhaps need the sun. A mother 
who has a boy at sea, will pray for prosperous winds for 
him, forgetting that the ocean is whitened with sails all 
under God's care, and that the breeze which bears one on- 
ward, must retard another. But more on this subject pres- 
ently. 

3. He may ask in an improper manner. Suppose the 
father should take from the post-office a letter in his son's 
handwriting, and on breaking the seal, should read as fol- 
lows : — 

1 'Dear Father, — 

" You must let me come home next week to Christmas. I 
wanted to come last year, but you would not let me, and 
now I must come. I wish you to write me immediately, and 
send the letter by the return post, saying that I may come 

" I am vour dutiful son, 



Who would think that a father ought to grant a request 
made in such a way as this ? It is to be feared that Chris- 
tians sometimes bring demands, instead of requests, to God. 

I have mentioned now three cases in which the father 
might, without breaking his promise, refuse the requests of 
his boy ; where it would be injurious to him, unjust te 



54 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Our Savior's promise. Prayers denied. 

others, or where the request is made in an improper man- 
tier. All promises of such a sort as this are universally con- 
sidered as liable to these exceptions. 

Our Savior says to us, " Whatsoever ye shall ask the 
Father, in my name, he will do it." This is common lan- 
guage, such as men address to men, and is to be understood 
exactly in the same way — in just such a sense, and with 
just such exceptions. The language means, if it is honestly 
used, that requests on our part will, in ordinary cases, have 
a real influence with the Creator in regard to things entirely 
beyond our control. It must mean, that, generally, all our 
proper requests will be granted. At the same time it must 
be liable to the exceptions above stated, for such exceptions 
apply in all similar cases. God must reserve the right to 
deny our requests when they are made in an improper spirit, 
and when they ask what would injure us, or interfere with 
the general good. 

If any of you have, in accordance with the views pre- 
sented in the two preceding chapters, confessed your past 
sins and chosen Jesus Christ for your friend, you will take 
great pleasure in bringing your requests to God. And you 
may, in doing this, sometimes pray for success in some enter- 
prise, when God sees that it is on the whole best you should 
fail. A man may ask that God will place him in some im- 
portant station of influence or usefulness, when the eye that 
can see the whole, discovers that the general good will be 
promoted by another arrangement. Thus in many similar 
ways your prayers may sometimes come within the excepted 
cases, and then God will not grant them. These cases, how- 
ever, it may be hoped, you will generally avoid, and thus in 
a vast majority of instances your prayers will be heard. 

There is even among Christians a great deal of distrust 
of the power of prayer. Some think that prayer exerts a 
good influence upon their own hearts, and thus they continue 



PRAYER. bt 



Power of prayer. The boy asking for a knife. 

the practice, without, however, having any very cordial "belief 
that they are really listened to and granted as requests, by 
the great Jehovah. Many persons imagine that prayer has 
an efficacy in some such way as this : a man asks Gcd to 
protect and bless him in his business ; by offering the prayer 
every day, he is reminded of his dependence, he thinks of the 
necessity of his own industry and patient effort, and thus, 
through the influence of his prayer, the causes of prosperity 
are brought to operate more fully in his case, and prosperity 
come. 

This is indeed often one of the happy results of believing 
prayer ; but it by no means embraces the whole import of 
the promise, " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Fa'her, he 
shall do it." The Father shall do it. This is ? promise 
that God shall do something that we ask him to do, — not 
simply that the natural effect of our asking will bf favorable 
in its influence upon us. 

There is another way in which it seems to n.3 there is 
a great deal of want of faith in God in regard to the effi- 
cacy of prayer. It is often said that requests may not be 
granted in the precise form in which they were offered, but 
that they are always answered in some way or other. A 
mother, for instance, who has a son at sea, prays morning 
and evening for his safe return. Letter after letter comes, 
assuring her of his continued safety, until at last the sad 
news arrives that his ship has been dashed upon a rock or 
sunk in the waves. Now can it be said that the mother's 
prayer was granted ? Suppose that she was, by this afflict- 
ing providence, weaned from the world and prepared for 
^heaven, and thus inconceivably benefited by the event. 
Was this, in any common or correct use of language, 
granting the request in another form, or was it denying it 
because it was inconsistent with her greatest good ? Suppose 
a child asks his father to let him keep a knife that h« 



56 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The sick man unexpectedly cured. 



has found, and the father takes it away, knowing that ha 
will probably injure himself with it. Is this granting the 
request in another form? No. We ought, whenever the 
particular request we make is not granted, to consider it a 
denial, and to suppose that it comes under one of the cases 
of exceptions I have already specified. 

There is, indeed, such a thing as granting a request in 
another form from that in which it was made. A family, 
one of whose members is in feeble health, prays for that 
member, that God would restore him. They come sin- 
cerely and earnestly to the throne of grace, and ask God 
to spare his life and make him well. Instead however of 
growing better, he grows suddenly worse. He is attacked 
with violent sickness, and his friends think that their 
prayers can not be heard, and suppose that they must follow 
him to the grave. The sickness however soon passes 
away, and instead of carrying him to the tomb, it produces 
by means of some mysterious influence which is in such 
cases often exerted upon the constitution, such effects that 
the patient rises from his sick-bed with renewed bodily 
powers, and as his strength gradually returns, he finds that 
his constitution is renewed and health entirely restored. 
Now this is granting the request, because the thing requested, 
that is, the restoration of health, is obtained, though the man- 
ner was unexpected ; but if the man should die, no matter 
what great benefits resulted from his death, it is certainly 
not right to say that the request was granted in any way. 
It was denied, because God saw it was best that it should 
be denied. 

Let us then keep constantly in view the fact, that our 
petitions are and must be often denied, — positively and 
absolutely refused. The language which our Savior uses, 
though without any specified exceptions, contains the ex- 
ceptions that in all human language are in all such cases 



PRAYER. 57 



Submissive spirit. Prayers of the young. Deliverance from danger. 

implied. The feelings however which, in this view of the 
subject, we ought to cherish, may properly be presented 
under the following head. 

II. The duty of a submissive spirit in prayer "We 
ought unquestionably to bring a great many requests to God, 
relating to our daily pursuits. We ought to express to him 
our common desires, ask success in our common enterprises 
and plans. Young persons, it seems to me, ought to do this 
more than they do. They ought to bring all their little 
interests and concerns, morning and evening, to their Friend 
above. "Whatever interests you, as I have already once 01 
twice remarked, will interest him. Bring to him freely 
your troubles and cares, whatever they may be, and express 
all your wants. If the young can not come to God with 
their ovm appropriate and peculiar concerns, they are 
in reality without a protector. If however we are in the 
habit of bringing all our wants to God, we shall often ask for 
something which it is far better for us not to have. We can 
not always judge correctly ; but unless we know that what 
we wish for is dangerous, or that it will be injurious, it is 
proper to ask for it. If we do or might know, to request it 
would be obviously wrong. David prayed very earnestly 
that his child might live, but God thought it not best to 
grant the petition. David did right to pray, for he probably 
did not know but that the request might be safely granted. 
Let us feel therefore when we come with our petitions, that 
perhaps God will think it best for us that they should be 
denied. 

This is peculiarly the case in praying for deliverance 
from danger. Our hearts may be relieved and lightened by 
committing ourselves to God's care, but we can never feel 
on that account sure that we are safe. God very often 
makes sickness, or a storm at sea, or the lightning, or any 
other source of common danger and alarm, the means of 

c* 



68 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The packet. 



removing a Christian from the world. You do not know 
but that he will remove you in this way. The next time 
a thunder storm arises in the west, it may be God's design to 
bring one of its terrific bolts upon your head, and you can 
not of course avert it by simply asking God to spare you. 
He will listen to your prayer, take it into kind considera- 
tion, and if you ask in a proper spirit, he will probably give 
you a calm and happy heart, even in the most imminent 
danger. But you can not be sure you will escape the 
lightning. The ground of your peace must be, that God 
will do ivhat is best, not that he will certainly do ichat yon 
wish. 

From one of the small seaport towns of New England, 
a packet once set sail for Boston.^ These packets, which 
are intended to carry passengers, have one large cabin. 
The berths (which perhaps I ought to inform some of my 
young readers, are a species of shelves, upon which passen- 
gers at sea sleep, one above another) are arranged around 
this cabin, and a movable partition which can be thrown 
open by day, divides the room at night into two parts. 
On board one of these packets then, a few years ago, a 
number of persons, ladies and gentlemen, previously entire 
strangers to each other, found themselves slowly sailing out 
of an eastern harbor, on a coasting voyage of about two 
hundred miles. They did not know how long they were to 
be together, what adventures might befall them, or what 
dangers they might share. They were however to spend 
their time in the same room, and as they were tossing upon 
the waves in the same vessel, a sense of common interest 
and of common danger brought them at once to terms of 
intimacy. 

* These packets have long since been superseded cy steamboats, 
and trains of cars. The passage is, however, allow n& to stand «* 
originally written. 



PRAYER. 



59 



The calm. 



The Christian traveler. 



The next morning there was scarcely a breath of air. 
The vessel heaved gently on the water, whose surface was 
polished like glass, though it swelled and sunk with the 
undulations of distant storms. In the tedium of waiting 
for wind, each one of the passengers and crew amused 
himself in his own way. Here you might see a cluster 
talking, and there two or three passengers gathering around 
a sailor who was letting down his line for fish. Others in 
various places, had their books. 

A Christian traveler who was present, sat down upon 
the quarter-deck, and opened a little bundle of books and 
newspapers, and tracts, which he had provided for the 
/lecasion. 




THE PACKET BECALMED- 



Presently a gentleman who had been sitting for half an 
nonr, gazing, for want of other employment, upon every 



50 iOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Books and tracts. The long passage. 

sprig of sea-weed or floating bubble that he could see, 
advanced to him, and asked, " Will you lend me something 
to read ?" 

" Certainly, sir, any thing I have ; but most of my supply 
here is of a religious character, and I do not know whether 
you will take any interest in it." 

The gentleman replied that he should take an interest in 
it ; and he selected a paper or a tract, took his seat again, 
and began to read. Presently a lady made the same re- 
quest ; — others looked wishfully toward the books, but hesi- 
tated to ask for them. Our traveler observing this, said to 
all within hearing, 

" If any others of the company would like any thing I have, 
I should be happy to have them take it. I always carry a 
supply of reading when I travel, though I select my books, 
perhaps, too much to suit my own taste alone. What I 
have here is chiefly of a religious character, and it may not 
be so generally interesting on that account. You are heart- 
ily welcome, however, to any thing that I have." 

The books and tracts were soon generally in circulation, 
the passengers were nearly all busy in reading them, and the 
time passed swiftly away. Our traveler became known as 
a Christian ; and were I now upon the subject of Christian 
influence, I might describe many interesting occurrences 
which took place, the Christian acquaintances which he 
formed, and the conversations which he had with various 
persons on board the vessel. But I am going so much into 
detail in this story, that I fear you have almost lost sight of 
our subject, which is the duty of praying to God with the 
feeling that he will, after all, do as he pleases about granting 
the request. I must hasten to the conclusion of the narra- 
tive. 

The passage was an uncommonly long one. The com- 
pany hoped to reach their port in two days, but after ten had 



PRAYER. 61 



Tho approaching storm. The storm increases. 

passed away, they were still far from Boston, night was 
coming on, and what was still worse, the captain, who stood 
anxiously at the helm, said that there were signs of an ap- 
proaching storm. A dark haze extended itself over the whole 
southern sky. The swell of the sea increased. The rising wind 
moaned in most melancholy tones through the rigging. The 
captain gave orders to take in sail, to make every thing snug 
about the vessel, and to have supper prepared earlier than 
usual, " Because," said he, " I expect, from the looks of 
the sky yonder, that an hour hence you will not manage a 
cup of tea very handily." 

The passengers ate their supper in silence. Their hearts 
were full of foreboding fears. The captain endeavored to 
encourage them. He said that they were not far from Bos- 
ton. He hoped soon to see the light. If they could make 
out to get into the harbor before it began to blow very hard, 
they should be safe. " Yes," said he, "I am in hopes to 
land you all safely at the T before ten o'clock.^ Unless we 
can get fairly into the harbor, however, I shall have to put 
about and stand out to sea ; for if we are to have a storm, we 
must not stay tossing about near the rocks." 

The storm increased. Sail after sail was reefed or taken 
in, but still the spirits of the company were sustained by 
knowing that they were advancing toward Boston, and by the 
hope that they should soon stand upon the firm shore. So 
great, however, was the pitching and rolling of the ship, that 
most of the passengers retreated to their berths and braced 
themselves there. A few of the more hardy or experienced 
remained upon deck, clinging to the masts or to the rigging, 
and watching with intense interest the distant glimmering of 
the Boston light, which had a short time before come into view. 

" We are not very far from the light," said the captain, 
" but it blows pretty hard." 

* The T, a noted wharf at Boston. 



62 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



They watch the light. The storm increases. Going about. 

" Do you think we shall get in ?" asked a passenger. 

" I do not know," said he, shaking his head, " it is a bad 
night. I will, however, try for it." 

The passengers watched the light. They observed that 
the captain did not like to talk while he was at the helm, 
and they forbore to ask him questions. They knew that as 
long as they were going toward the light there was hope, and 
they watched it therefore with a very eager eye. Sometimes 
the ship would veer a little from her course, and as the light 
moved off to the right or to the left, they were filled with 
solicitude lest the captain was going to abandon the effort 
and put out again to sea. 

He kept however steadily on for another half-hour, though 
wind and wave seemed to do their utmost to compel him tc 
return. The light grew larger and brighter as the vessel ap- 
proached it, but the wind increased so rapidly that the cap- 
tain seemed much perplexed to know what to do. He put 
the helm into the hands of a sailor, and went forward and 
stood there looking upon the dark gloomy horizon until he 
was completely drenched with the spray. In a few minutes 
he returned suddenly. 

" 'Tis of no use," said he ; and then taking the helm again, 
he called out in his loudest voice, to the sailors who were be- 
fore, which, however, the roaring of the waves almost drown- 
ed, " Ready, about." 

The sailors answered, " Ready." 

A moment after, the captain's voice was again heard, iu 
the loud but monotonous tone of command, " Helm's a-lee." 

There was bustle at the bows of the ship. A great sail 
flapped in the wind with a sound of thunder ; the ropes rat- 
tled ; the boom swung with violence across the deck ; and 
the bow, which had been pointed directly to the light-house, 
their only star of hope, now swept swiftly around the horizon, 
until it left it behind them. The vessel plunged into the 



PRAYEPw. 



63 



Splitting of the topsail. 



Danger. 



waves ; and to complete this scene of terror, a loud sound, like 
a clap of rattling thunder, burst close over their heads, arous- 
ing every passenger, and producing universal alarm. It was 
the splitting of the topsail. 

The melancholy in- 
telligence was soon 
spread among the pas- 
sengers below, that the 
effort to reach Boston 
was abandoned, and 
that they were now 
standing out to the 
open sea, and that 
consequently they must 
be all night exposed 
unsheltered to the vi- 
olence of the storm. 
Although the commo- 
tion had been already 
enough to fill the pas- 
sengers with fear, yet 

to an eye accustomed to the ocean, there had not been any 
real danger. But real danger soon came. The wind in- 
creased, and the vessel labored so much in struggling against 
its fury, that even the captain thought it doubtful whether 
they should ever see the land. 

In commencing this description, I did not intend to have 
given so full a narrative of the circumstances of this storm, 
and perhaps the reader has almost forgotten the subject which 
we are considering, and the purpose for which this incident 
is introduced. The subject is the feelings with which prayer 
should be offered in danger, and the narrative was introduced 
simply to present a distinct idea of a situation of danger, on 
the deep. The passengers in this packet were now in very 




GOING ABOUT. 



64 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Protection neve' certain. Object of prayer in danger. 



imminent danger. They were all in their berths below, for 
so violent was the motion of the vessel, that it was not safe 
to attempt to stand. The wish was intimated by some of 
the company, and the desire soon extended to all, that a 
prayer should be offered ; and they looked to our Christian 
traveler to express their petitions at the throne of grace. 

Many persons may have such conceptions of the nature of 
prayer, as to suppose that if this company should now sin- 
cerely unite in commending themselves to God's protection, 
he would take care of them, and that they might feel perfect- 
ly safe. Many cases have occurred in which Christians, who 
have been in the midst of danger, have fled to Jehovah for 
protection j and have had their fears immediately quelled, and 
felt a calm and happy assurance that God would bring them 
through in safety. But such an assurance is not usually 
well grounded. Are real Christians never lost at sea ? Do 
real Christians who on their sick beds pray that God will re- 
store them to health, never die ? Is a Christian who, on 
commencing a journey asks divine protection, never overturn 
ed in a coach ? Is the family which always asks, in its 
evening prayer, that God will grant them quiet repose, never 
called up by the sudden sickness of a child, or aroused at mid- 
night by a cry of fire ? Facts universally testify that God 
does not grant every request. He reserves to himself the 
right, after hearing the petition, to grant or to deny, as may 
seem best to him. 

You will perhaps say, Of what avail is it then, to pray to 
God in danger, if we can have no assurance that we shall be 
saved ? It avails much. You can not be sure that you will 
be certainly preserved from that danger, but you can rest 
calmly and peacefully in the assurance that God will do 
what is on the whole for the best. " And will this feeling,' ' 
you ask, " enable any one to rest in peace while he is out at 
sea in a storm, and in danger every moment of sinking ?" 



PRAYER. 65 



Socrates. His peace of mind. 

Yes, it will, if fully possessed. If we could feel assured that 
God was our friend, and if we had entire confidence in him, 
no danger would terrify us ; we should be calm and happy in 
all situations. Christians have very often been calm and 
happy when not danger merely but certain death was ap- 
proaching, so strong has been their confidence in God. Even 
Socrates, who had no revelation to guide him, and to whom 
the future must have been consequently very dark and un- 
certain, even he met his fate not merely with fortitude, but 
with calmness and peace, through the trust he reposed in his 
heavenly Protector. 

He was in a cold dungeon, where his enemies had impris- 
oned him from jealousy of his extensive influence in behalf 
of virtue. He had been condemned to die, and in a few days 
the cup of poison was to be given him to drink. His wife 
came to his prison to bid him farewell ; but she was so over- 
whelmed with agitation and sorrow that she could not re- 
main. His other friends were around him in tears, — but he 
was all the time unmoved. He talked of the principles of 
duty, and of his hopes of a happy immortality after the poison 
should have done its work. Presently they brought him the 
fatal cup. His friends were overwhelmed with the most 
agitating sorrow, — but he did not fear. He seemed to con- 
fide in divine protection, and took the poison from the jailer's 
hands and drank it all. He walked about a little while, 
and then lay down upon his bed and died. And shall a 
Christian, who knows the affection of his heavenly Father, 
and who is sure that there is a future world of peace and joy, 
shall he refuse to be calm in danger, unless he can first be 
sure that he shall certainly be preserved uninjured ? No. 
When we ask God's protection in danger, we may, in all 
ordinary cases, expect protection. He has promised to grant 
our requests, unless special reasons prevent. Now as we 
may not know what these special reasons are, we can not be 



GG YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



True composure in danger. The prayer. 

certain of security, and consequently the foundation of out 
peace and happiness at such times must be, not the belief 
that we are certainly safe, but a calm and happy acquies- 
cence in God's will. Not a sparrow falls to the ground with- 
out his knowledge — still sparrows often do fall. All that we 
can be absolutely certain of is, that whatever happens to us 
will come with the knowledge and permission of our best and 
greatest Friend — and every calamity which comes in this 
way, we ought to be willing to meet. 

But to return to our ship. The passengers were all below. 
It was no longer safe for them to attempt to stand in any 
part of the vessel, and the Christian traveler, looking out 
from the berth to which he had retreated, called upon God 
to save them from their common danger. What prayer he 
offered I do not know. I learned the circumstances of the 
danger of this packet, first from a father on shore who was 
awaiting the arrival of his boy, who was on board when the 
Btorm came on, and afterward from several of the passengers 
when they had all safely reached the land. I do not there- 
fore know what the prayer was, but that I may the more 
distinctly convey to my young readers an idea of the spirit 
with which prayer in danger should be offered, I will write 
one which, it seems to me, might w T ith propriety, on such an 
occasion, be offered. Let us imagine then that the terrified 
passengers in their various berths in the dark cabin listen 
and hear, as well as the howling of the tempest and the roar- 
ing of the waves will permit, the following petition, in which 
they endeavor cordially tojoin : 

" Almighty God, thou hast promised to be with two or 
three who unite to call upon thee, wherever they are ; we 
come, therefore, with full confidence that thou art with us 
now, and that thou, who dost rule wind and waves, art really 
present, to hear what we have to say as we come before thee. 



PRAYER. 67 

The prayer at sea. 



" Grant, Holy Spirit, that all of us who are now present; 
exposed to this danger, may come with our whole hearts tc 
thee. When we are in health and safety we break thy 
commands and neglect our duty, and then, when danger 
comes, and no arm but thine can help, we are ashamed and 
afraid to come to thee. But 0, our Father, let not one of us 
hesitate now. We thank thee for teaching us, by so irresis- 
tible a proof, how dependent we are upon thee. May we 
all be willing to learn the lesson, and may we bow humbly 
before thee now, even if we have never bowed before. 

" We come to ask that thou wilt protect us in this danger, 
and bring us safely to our homes. Thou canst protect from 
greater dangers than these. Wilt thou protect us. Save us 
from finding our watery grave here in the deep, and save our 
beloved parents, and brothers, and sisters, at home, from the 
anxiety they must even now feel, and from the anguish such 
tidings of our destruction must give. Almighty Father, save 
us, we pray thee. 

" Nevertheless, not our will but thine be done. We see 
but a part, and thou seest the whole. If thou seest it to be 
best that we should go down here to a watery grave, we 
would acquiesce in thy will. We have solemnly given our- 
selves to thee, and chosen thee for our portion. We have, 
if we love thee at all, committed ourselves to thy care and 
to thy disposal. We have rejoiced in this dependence upon 
thee when we have been in health and safety, and we will 
not shrink from our covenant to be thine, now we are in 
danger. Do with us as seemeth good in thy sight, only give 
to us all a calm and happy acquiescence in thy will. Pardon 
our sins, so that we may be at peace with thee ; and whether 
we are to live or die, may our hearts be thine, through Christ, 
our Redeemer. Amen." 

Such may have been the spirit of the prayer. Such 1 



68 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Effects. Sincerity of prayer. Ardor in prayer. 

presume was the spirit of the petition offered on this occasion. 
Every heart which will sincerely offer such a prayer when 
in danger, will feel relieved through the influence of it from 
solicitude and fear. I am aware that in a case of imminent 
exposure of life, the terror excited is often a physical feeling 
which moral causes will not fully control. Still this calm 
acquiescence in God's superior wisdom and power will do 
more than any other feeling can to produce peace. 

III. Sincerity of prayer. Prayer is, in all ordinary cases, 
and it ought to be, a calm and peaceful exercise, not an 
agitating one. Many persons waste the hour of prayer in 
endeavoring to feel some deep agitation, imagining that sin- 
cere and acceptable prayer can not be offered without it. 
You must be sincere when you pray, but you may be calm. 
Read our Savior's model of prayer- — u Our Father who art 
in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come ; thy 
will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day 
our daily bread, &c." What a peaceful, quiet spirit it 
breathes ! The great question in regard to your prayer being 
acceptable is this : Do you wish for any thing which you 
know that no one but God can grant, and are you willing to 
ask him for it in the name of Jesus Christ ? If so, come at 
once and ask him. Ask with that degree of feeling which 
your interest in the request prompts, and no more. If you 
wish to increase your feeling, you can not do it in any way, 
except by increasing your interest in the request. You may 
give additional vividness to your idea of the value of the 
object sought, by thinking of it, and considering how great 
a blessing it would be to you if granted, and thus you may 
increase your ardor in prayer. But all direct attempts to 
produce this ardor by effort will fail ; or if they succeed in 
producing some sort of excitement, it is not a healthy, accept- 
able interest in prayer. 

Now, after this explanation, those who read this can easily 



PRAYER. 69 

w -— , 

Right spirit of prayer. Difficulty. 

decide whether they are prepared to offer, this night, accept- 
able prayer to God. Do you wish that God should take 
care of you while you sleep ? I do not mean, do you wish 
to be safe — every body wishes to be safe ; but do you wish 
to have God at you?' bedside, protecting you ? If you do 
not, if the feeling of his presence would be a burden to you, 
and a restraint, of course you will not ask him to come. But 
suppose that you are desirous of having him present, are you 
then willing to ask him ? I do not inquire whether you are 
willing to struggle a long time with your heart to awaken 
deep feeling enough to justify, in your opinion, coming to God 
Are you willing, as you retire to rest to-night, to breathe a 
short and simple petition to God, asking him to come and be 
your friend and protector for the night, — acknowledging that 
you do not deserve his protection, and that you ask it in the 
name of Jesus Christ ? If vou are willing to do this, and if 
you actually do it, and if you ask with that degree of feeling 
which your sincere desire for God's protection prompts, you 
may lie down in peace, sure that you have offered acceptable 
prayer. 

But here I must mention a difficulty which many and 
many a time has been brought to me by serious-minded per- 
sons who wish to pray to God, but who think that they can 
not pray aright. I presume this difficulty has occurred to 
many who will read this chapter. I fancy I can perceive 
thoughts like these passing through the mind of some 
thoughtful, conscientious reader, who has taken up this book 
honestly desiring to find in it religious instruction : 

" If I understand the author right, he says that if I to-night 
pray to God to protect me, just because I leant protection, or 
rather because I wish for his protection, that will be accept- 
able prayer. But it seems to me that that would be mere 
selfishness. I wish for a great many things which I know 
none but God can grant, but if I ask them only because I feel 



70 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Difficulty. Replj. 

the need of them, it is only a selfish desire for my own hap- 
piness, and I can not expect to be heard. I should like such 
a friend as Jesus Christ, that I might come to him in all my 
trials and troubles, and seek strength from him in times of 
temptation. But then this is all love of my own happiness. 
I can not be happy in sin ; — there is a foreboding and a bur- 
den all the time pressing upon my heart, from which I wish 
to be relieved. But unless I have a higher motive than a 
wish to obtain peace and happiness myself, I can not expect 
to be heard." 

I have no doubt there are multitudes who are substantially 
in this state of mind. They are deterred by this difficulty 
from coming cordially to their great Friend above. I have 
stated the difficulty as distinctly and fully as I can, adopting 
as nearly as possible the words in which it has often been 
presented to me. I hope you will attend carefully to my 
reply, and if it is satisfactory now, lay it up in your memo- 
ries, and never be embarrassed by this difficulty again. 

My reply is substantially this — that a desire for the peace 
and happiness of piety is a perfectly proper motive for com- 
ing to God. It is the motive which the Bible everywhere 
presents. It is not, in any proper sense of the term, selfish 
ness. 

First, I say it is a perfectly proper motive. God is oui 
great Creator and Protector, and he made us weak and de- 
pendent, but desirous of peace and happiness, for the very 
purpose of having us look to him for it. He never intended 
to make men a race of stoics — each one entirely indifferent 
in respect to his own personal happiness. He himself wishes 
to see all happy, and all happy in him ; and he wishes us 
to desire and seek this happiness for ourselves, and to come 
to him for it. 

Again, I say that the Bible everywhere presents the 
promised peace and happiness of piety as the motive why v/e 



PRAYER. 71 



Rest for the weary. The prodigal son. The nobleman. 

should seek it. Jesus stood and cried in a great concourse of 
people, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy- 
laden, and I will give you rest." How strange that any one 
can imagine after this, that a love of rest and a desire to be 
relieved of burden, is not a proper motive for coming to Jesus 
Christ ! The prodigal son, perhaps the most striking and 
complete emblem of the penitent sinner which the Bible 
contains, says, " How many hired servants of my father have 
bread enough and to spare, while I perish with hunger ! I 
will arise and go to my father." Who would think, after 
reading this parable, that any sinner would be afraid to come 
to the Savior because his motive is to have his wants sup- 
plied ? Look at the thousands who came to our Savior to 
be healed of their diseases, or to be rescued from some suffer- 
ing. Did he ever turn them away because they came for 
their own benefit ? A nobleman came once. His son was 
at the point of death. Parental affection urged him on. He 
came and begged the Savior to come and save his son. He 
was so far from being under the influence of any high philo- 
sophical notions of faith and disinterestedness, that when the 
Savior began to speak of faith and the. influence of miracles 
upon it, he almost interrupted him by saying, " Come down, 
ere my child die." And did the Savior repulse him, and say 
he was influenced by wrong motives ? It was not a wrong 
motive. He wanted haj^piness, and he was willing to come 
to Jesus Christ for it. And God wishes to see the whole 
human race eager for the pure joys of piety, and flocking 
around his throne to obtain them. 0, if any of you are 
weary with the burden of sin, and long for the peace and 
happiness of piety, come boldly for it. Never fear that God 
will call it selfishness, and drive you away. 

Once more; I said this could not be called selfishness; 
desiring the happiness of virtue, and taking the proper 
measures to preserve it, never is called selfishness, except 



72 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Illustration. The dosk. The father's refusal. 

by persons lost in the mazes of metaphysics. Suppose 
two children, whose parents had taught them habits of 
regularity and order so fully that they take pleasure in the 
systematic arrangement of all their little property, come 
and ask their father to let them have a large desk which 
stands useless in the garret, to bring to their little room, 
as a place of deposit for their books, and papers, and toys. 
Suppose now he should inquire of the boys, and should 
find that they have planned the disposal of their effects 
exactly, in the shelves and drawers of the desk, and are 
anticipating much enjoyment from the expected acquisition. 
He sees their countenances brightened with anticipation a?, 
they wait breathlessly to catch his answer, and then to fly 
away and commence the removal. Now suppose the father 
should stop them by such absurd words as these : 

" My boys, I am very sorry to find that you are so 
selfish. I strongly suspect that the reason why you want 
that desk is because you expect some pleasure from it. 
Perhaps you think you will enjoy your property more by 
seeing it well arranged in sucli a good storehouse, or per 
haps you think you can spend rainy afternoons in your 
room more pleasantly if you have it. Now, that is very 
wrong ; that is selfishness. To desire any thing for the 
sake of the happiness which, it affords, is selfishness. Un- 
less you can ask from some better motive than that, I can not 
grant your requests/' 

I do not think that any gravity of countenance which 
could be assumed would lead the boys to imagine that 
their father could be serious in this. Certainly no parent 
would ever say it ; and if earthly parents know how to give 
good gifts to their children, how much more shall your 
heavenly Father give his holy Spirit to them that ask him ? 
that is, to them that ask him for it as a good gift, — some- 
thing which is to do good to them. 



THAYER. /o 



Real selfishness. Prayer of faith. The morning prayer-meeting. 

But what is selfishness. Why, if the desk, instead of 
lying useless in the garret, was used by the older brothers, 
and the younger wished to take it away from them unreason- 
ably and unjustly, that would be selfishness. A disposition 
to encroach upon the rights and enjoyments of others in 
order to secure our own, is selfishness ; and we must not 
come to God with this spirit. If any one, however, desires 
peace and happiness, and is satisfied that God only can give 
it, let him come and and ask. " Ho, every one tluit thirsteth, 
come ye to the waters." God never will repulse you, because 
thirst urges you to come. 

It is a very common impression among young persons, 
and perhaps some of mature minds are not entirely free 
from the same perplexity, that in order to render prayer 
acceptable, the Christian must have a full belief that his 
request will be granted. This is called the prayer of faith 
Hence many persons, when they strongly desire some 
spiritual blessing for themselves or others, make a great 
deal of effort, when they pray for it, to believe that they 
shall receive it. Come with me to the morning prayer- 
meeting. A few Christians whose duties of business press 
upon them during the day, assemble by the gray light of 
the dawn around the early fire of some Christian neighbor. 
They read and reflect a moment upon a few verses of the 
Bible. They sing a hymn, and are just about to kneel 
before God in order to unite in prayer for his blessing upon 
themselves and upon their families and neighbors during the 
day, when perhaps one of the number addresses the meeting 
as follows : 

"My brethren, we come this morning to ask great bless- 
ings, but ice must have faith, or we can not expect that God 
will hear us. He has promised to hear us, and to give us 
whatever we ask, believing. Let us believe then firmly and 
cordially that God will hear us. And let us ask- for great 

D 



74 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

The morning prayer-meeting. Prayer for a revival. 

blessings. God is ready to give us the greatest, if we only 
have faith." 

They then unite in prayer ; and there kneels with them, 
in a corner of the room, unnoticed perhaps by all but God, 
a young disciple who has hesitatingly asked of the master 
of the house permission to enjoy the privilege of joining 
that circle of prayer. She understands the exhortation 
which was given to mean, that she must fully believe that 
the blessings to be asked will certainly be granted. She 
tries therefore, as she listens to the words of the prayer, 
to believe this. Perhaps the first request is that God would 
pour out his Spirit upon all present, and purify them, and 
keep them that day devoted to his service and free from 
all sin. Now she thinks it right to pray for this ; she 
sincerely desires it, but she can not really believe that it 
will be fully granted. Then she reproves herself for her 
unbelief; that is, for the feeling that it is not probable that 
all present will be perfectly pure and holy during that day. 
She struggles against this feeling, but she can not conquer 
it. Belief rests on evidence , not on determination. 

The next petition is for a powerful revival of true religion 
in that neighborhood ; that, by a divine influence exerted 
over their hearts, Christians may be led to love their 
Maker more and to serve him better ; and that those who 
are living in sin may be universally awakened to a convic- 
tion of their guilt and danger, and be persuaded to serve 
Jehovah. Now our young Christian sincerely desires this, — 
she hopes for it, — but she is distressed because she can 
not cordially believe that it will certainly come, and she 
considers this feeling a want of faith. She rises from 
her posture of devotion anxious and unhappy, because she 
does not feel absolutely sure that what she has asked is 
on the whole for the best, and that it will certainly be 
granted, • 



TRAYER. 15 



Difficulty. God decides. 

Now all her difficulty arises from misunderstanding the 
nature of the faith which ought to be exercised in prayer. 
The remarks made meant, or they ought to have meant, 
that we are to come to God confident that he will do tvhat 
is on the whole for the best, — not positive that he will do 
exactly what ive ask. God never has given assemblies of 
Christians authority to mark out a course for him to pursue, 
in such a sense as that he shall be bound to pursue it. He 
has promised to give us what we ask ; but still the excep- 
tions, universally understood to be implied by this language 
in other cases, are attached to it in this. We must offer 
our petitions, trusting in God, — believing, as the Bible ex 
presses it, that he is, and that he is the rewarder of them 
that diligently seek him ; but after we have offered our 
most earnest requests, we must leave the matter with him. 
This is what is meant by the prayer of faith, so often alluded 
to by Christian ministers. And this was the kind of faith 
our Savior required of those who came to him to be healed. 
" Belie vest thou,'' said he, " that I am able to do this ?" not 
that I shall do it. When the apostles and brethren came 
together to pray for Peter, they were so far from believing 
that their prayer for deliverance would be granted, that 
they were incredulous when they saw him. They trusted 
in God, and believed that he would do what was right. 
This confidence in him was the faith that they exercised. 
Believing that ye shall receive them, then, must mean — 
believing that God is able and willing to grant, except in 
those few cases where imperious reasons compel him to 
deny. He sees many material considerations in every case 
which are entirely beyond our view, and we must according- 
ly always leave the final decision wholly w T ith him. 

It is very often said that prayer for spiritual blessings will 
always be heard and granted. But we can be no more ab- 
solutely certain in this case than in others. God does often 



76 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The mother. God decider 



withhold the influences of his Spirit, as we all know full 
well. Who of us can tell what are the causes ? Look at 
yonder mother. She has an only son. Her first prayer in 
regard to him was that God would make him his. She con- 
secrated him to his Maker's service at his earliest breath. 
She rocked him to sleep in infancy, singing a hymn of ae- s 
knowledgment that he was the Lord's. As soon as he could 
understand the lesson, she taught him his duty to his great 
Creator. She has often knelt with him in prayer, and her 
whole heart is set upon having her only son devoted to the 
service of God. But all her efforts are fruitless, and her 
prayers are not answered. Her son grows up in indifference 
about God, which perhaps becomes, when he has arrived at 
maturity, open hostility. How many such mothers there 
are ! She was praying, too, for spiritual blessings, for the 
conversio?i of a son to God, but the sovereign Ruler leaves 
him, notwithstanding these supplications, for a time at least, 
to his own chosen way. 

Yes, God is a sovereign. He dispenses all his favors as 
he himself thinks best. He listens to our requests, and takes 
them into kind consideration, but he reserves to himself the 
right to make the ultimate decision. Let us come to him 
then with real sincerity, and with a deep sense of our need 
of the blessings we ask, but always with this humble feeling, 
that God sees farther than we, and can judge better, — and 
that he will himself make the ultimate decision in regard to 
every thing we ask. 

And we must remember that this is just as true with re- 
gard to spiritual blessings as to any other. The cause of 
religion advances in the world in a manner which we can 
not predict or account for. I do not pretend to say precisely 
how far and in what respects this progress depends upon the 
agency of man, and how far upon power which is in the 
hands of God. But every one, whatever may be his ideas 



PRAYER. 77 



-apposed God a sovereign. Submissive spirit. 



of the boundlessness of human freedom, acknowledges that a 
most important agency in determining where the Gospel 
shall triumph, and where it shall fail, and in regulating its 
progress throughout the earth, rests in the hands of the Su- 
preme. Now what Christian is there who can understand 
the principles which guide Jehovah in the exercise of the 
power which he so obviously possesses? How many se- 
cretly think that the sudden conversion of a whole city, per- 
haps, to God, w 7 ould be a glorious achievement of the Re- 
deemer, and fancy that if they had the power over the heart 
which God possesses, they would produce the effect at once, 
and exhibit the magnificent spectacle of the undisputed reign 
of holiness and peace in a community of one hundred thou- 
sand. Suppose now every Christian in some great city were 
to unite in a sincere and heartfelt prayer that God would 
pour out his Spirit universally among them, and in a single 
day awaken all the multitudes around them to piety. It is 
indeed unquestionably true, that if this united prayer should 
be offered, and should be accompanied by the efforts which 
sincerity in the prayer would insure, most uncommon effects 
would follow. But who believes that the whole city would 
be converted in a day ? No one. Why ? Because this is 
not according to the analogy of God's working in spreading 
the Gospel. And why does he not work in this way, con- 
verting w T hole communities at once, leading them to him by 
his own direct agency upon the heart, as he now often leads 
individuals in silence and solitude ? Why does not God 
work in this manner ? Some one may say, because Chris- 
tians are so cold and negligent in duty. Why then does not 
« the power which raised up Paul, raise up thousands like him 
now, and enkindling within them the spirit and devotedness 
of the great apostle, and send them forth to bring the world 
at once to him ? — Who can tell ? 

No : w r e can not direct. God guides by his own wisdom 



78 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Prayers for the young. Danger of perversion. 

the chariot of his coming. We can ask, but we can not dic- 
tate. If we attempt to take the reins, he holds them up far 
above our reach, and the wheels roll on where God points 
the way. 

The experienced Christian who reads these remarks, in- 
tended to show that God really controls and directs every 
thing relating to the progress of piety in the world, will im- 
mediately say, " How liable are we to pervert this truth, so 
as to excuse our own neglect of duty." Yes, it is so. Men 
are everywhere so prone to throw off responsibility from 
themselves, that the minister of the Gospel is often almost, 
afraid to vindicate fully and cordially the supreme and un- 
bounded power which God exercises over the human heart, 
for fear that men will lose their sense of their own accounta- 
bility. A mother will ask that God will change the hearts 
of her children, and sometimes wait, as she expresses it, for 
God's time to come, while she in the mean time does nothing, 
or at most only goes over a formal round of duties, without 
any of that spirit, and enterprise, and ingenuity which she 
would exercise if she knew that something depended upon 
her own efforts. But this perversion of scripture truth is not 
necessary or unavoidable. However difficult it may be for 
us to understand how man can be free and fully accountable, 
while God retains so much direct power over his heart as the 
Bible so distinctly describes, — it is possible cordially to feel 
the accountability, and at the same time sincerely to ac- 
knowledge the dependence. Look at the case of that Chris- 
tian teacher. She prays most earnestly that God would 
come and bless the school to which she belongs. She bring3 
individual cases in secrecy and solitude before God. She 
prays that faults may be forgiven — froward dispositions soft- 
ened — and all brought under the influence of Christian love. 
She asks that God will pour out his Spirit and diffuse peace 
and happiness over the school-room improving every charac • 



PRAYER. 79 



The humble yet active teacher. Conclusion. The ship. 

ter, purifying and ennobling every heart, and in making the 
dejected happy, and the happy happier still. She has seen 
such an influence diffused over a school — she knows that it 
is an influence from above, and she looks to Him who rules 
all human hearts to come into her circle with his benign 
influences once more. Now, does she after this go away and 
spend her time in inaction, on the ground that God only can 
change the heart, and that she has done all that it is in her 
power to do by simply bringing the case before him ? No, 
she comes to her morning duties in the school-room with a 
heart full of desire to do something to procure what she. has 
asked God to bestow. And she does accomplish something 
By her kindness she wins her companions to her confidence 
and love, and in thousand nameless ways which never can 
be described, but which a heart full of love will always be 
discovering, she carries forward very effectually in her little 
circle the cause for which she prays. 

It is so universally. When a minister allows his sense of 
his entire dependence on God to become feeble or indistinct, 
his efforts, instead of increasing, diminish. It may be called 
the Christian paradox, that he who, in theory, ascribes least 
efficacy to human efforts and most to the Spirit of God in 
the salvation of men, is ordinarily most indefatigable in those 
very efforts which he knows are of themselves utterly fruit- 
less and vain. 

And here I might close this long chapter, by urging my 
readers to commence immediately the practice of bringing 
all their wants and cares to God. I trust that they have been 
persuaded by it to do so. Some of my young readers, however, 
probably wish to know what became of the passengers in the 
packet-ship whom we left in such imminent danger ; for 
that narrative is substantially true, though I was not myself 
an eye-witness of the scene. When we left them, they were 
tossing about upon the waves ; the storm was increasing, the 



80 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The storm subsides. Safe arrival at Proviiicotown. 

captain had almost given them over for lost, and those of the 
passengers who were not prepared to die were greatly agi- 
tated by remorse and terror. Things continued in this state 
for some hours, and very few of those on board expected to 
see another morning. The passengers however, before long, 
perceived that the violence of the tempest was a little 
abating ; the thunder of the wind and waves grew some- 
what less ; and though the pitching and tossing of the ship 
rather increased than diminished, they began to cherish a 
little hope ; some of the number even fell into a troubled 
sleep. 

At last there were indications of the morning. The dim 
forms of objects in the cabin began to be a little more dis- 
tinct. The gray light of day looked down through the nar- 
row window of the deck. As the passengers aroused them- 
selves, one after another, and looked forth from their berths, 
they perceived at once that the danger was over. They went 
to the deck, clinging to something firm for support, for the 
wind was still brisk, and the sea still heaved and tumbled in 
great commotion. But the danger was over. The sky was 
clear. A broad zone of light extended itself in the east, in- 
dicating the approaching sun : and not many miles distant 
there was extended a level sandy shore lined with dwellings, 
and opening to a small harbor, filled with vessels which had 
sought shelter there from the fury of the storm. It was 
Provincetown, at the extremity of the Cape. I need not say 
that the passengers and crew assembled once more, before 
they landed, at the throne of grace, to give thanks to God 
for having heard their prayer and granted them protection. 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 81 

Neglecting duty. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTI, 
" If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." 

I have now, in the several chapters which the reader has 
already had the opportunity of perusing, endeavored clearly to 
explain the first steps to be taken in Christian duty, and the 
principles and feelings by which we ought to be guided hi 
taking them, and I think that all who have read these pages 
must have understood clearly and distinctly what they have 
to do. Take for example the subject of the first chapter — 
Confession. You can not read, or even think upon that sub- 
ject for half an hour, without seeing plainly that you have 
disobeyed God again and again, and that you have, by thus 
doing what you know to be wrong, destroyed your peace of 
mind, and displeased your Maker. This no one can deny. 
There is a vast variety of religious opinion and religious con- 
troversy in the world, but I believe no sect, believing in the 
existence of a Deity, was ever heard of, which maintained 
that man does not do wrong, or that doing wrong, he is not 
bound penitently to confess his sins to God. 

But when you saw clearly that you had done wrong, and 
destroyed your peace, did you go and seek this reconciliation ? 
How many probably read that chapter, and distinctly under- 
stood what duty it urged upon them, and saw the reasonable- 
ness of that duty, and yet shut the book and laid it away, 
without ever intending at all to set resolutely about doing it 



82 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Injury which this book will do. 



To understand clearly what duty is, and to have a disposition 
to do it, are very different things. 

I have during the preceding chapters been explaining what 
the duty of my readers is. I have said scarcely any thing to 
persuade you to do it, and as I have gone on from page to 
page, and endeavored so to explain and illustrate the prin- 
ciples of piety that every one could clearly understand, the 
melancholy reflection has often forced itself upon me, " How 
many now will read or hear read these things, and yet en- 
tirely neglect to do any thing I describe. " "Melancholy 
reflection !" you will say, perhaps, " why do you call it a 
melancholy reflection ? If some are induced to do their duty 
in consequence of your explanations, you may rejoice in the 
good which is done, and not think at all of those who dis- 
regard what you say. The book will certainly do them no 
harm." 

Will do them no harm ? I wish that could be true. But 
it can not be. The religious teacher can not console himself 
with the thought that when his efforts do no good, they will 
do no harm. For he must, if he speaks distinctly, and 
brings fairly forward a subject of duty, cause every one of his 
readers to decide for it or against it ; and when a person de- 
cides against duty, is he not injured ? Is not good prin- 
ciple defeated or weakened, and his heart hardened against a 
future appeal ? 

The chapter on Confession of Sin, for example, will have 
been undoubtedly read by multitudes who will shut the book, 
and lay it aside, without at all attempting to perform the 
duty there pointed out. The duty was plainly brought be- 
fore them. They could not, and probably would not, deny 
its obligation. But instead of going accordingly to God, and 
seeking peace and reconciliation to him by a free confession 
of guilt, — they laid the book away, and after a very short 
time all the serious thoughts which it suggested vanished 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 83 

The disobedient child. The message disregarded. The Christian message. 

from their minds, and they returned as before to their sins. 
Now this is deciding once more, distinctly against God. 

For, to decide against God, it is not necessary to use the 
actual language of disobedience. Suppose that a father sends 
a child to call back his little sister, who is going away con- 
trary to the parent's wishes. The boy runs and overtakes 
her, and delivers his message. The child stops a moment, 
and listens to the command that she should return immedi- 
ately to her home. She hesitates — thinks of her father and 
of her duty to obey him, and then looks over the green fields 
through which she was walking, and longs to enjoy the for- 
bidden pleasure. There is a momentary struggle in her 
heart, and then she turns away, and walks boldly and care- 
lessly on. The messenger returns slowly and sadly home. 

But why does he return sadly ? He has done his duty in 
delivering the message. Why should he be sad ? He is sad 
to think of the double guilt which his sister has incurred. 
He thinks that the occasion which his coming up to her pre- 
sented, might have been the means of her return, and of her 
forgiveness, but that it was the means of confirming her in 
disobedience, and of hardening her heart against the claims 
of her father. 

It is just so with the messages which a Christian teacher 
brings to those who listen to his words. If they do not listen 
to obey, they listen to reject and disobey, and every refusal to 
do duty hardens the heart in sin. There can be no question, 
therefore, that such a book as this must, in many cases, be 
the innocent means of fixing human souls in their sins, as the 
Gospel itself, while it is a savor of life unto life to some, to 
others is a savor of death unto death. 

Header, is your name on the sad catalogue of those who 
read religious books, and listen to religious instruction, merely 
to bring the question of duty again and again before your 
minds, only to decide that you will not do it ? If it is, read 



84 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Story of Louisa. 



Hor character. 



and consider attentively the narrative to which the remain* 
der of this chapter is devoted. 5 ^ It is strictly true, and 
is only a plain, common instance, such as are occurring a]l 
around us by tens of thousands, of the consequences of being 
almost persuaded to be a Christian. 

THE STORY OF LOUISA. 

Shortly after my settlement in the ministry, I observed ui 
the congregation a young lady whose blooming countenance 
and cheerful air indicated perfect health and great buoyancy 
of spirits. 




LOUISA. 



Her appearance, as I saw her seated in her pew, led me at 
once to suppose that she was an amiable but thoughtless girl, 
and this opinion my subsequent acquaintance with her abun 

* By Rev. John S. C. Abbot. 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 86 

The evening meeting. Louisa's interest in religion. 

dantly confirmed. There was no one of my charge whose 
prospects for long life were more promising than her own, 
and perhaps no one who looked forward to the future with 
more pleasing hopes of enjoyment. To her eye the world 
seemed bright. She often said that she wished to enjoy more 
of it before she became a Christian. 

Louisa, for by that name I shall call her, manifested no 
particular hostility to religion, but wished to live a gay and 
merry life till just before her death, and then to bocome 
pious and die happy. She was constant in her attendance 
at church, and while others seemed moved by the exhibition 
of the Savior's love, she seemed entirely unaffected. Upon 
whatever subject I preached, her countenance retained tho 
same marks of indifference and unconcern. The same easy 
smile played upon her features, whether sin or death, or 
heaven or hell, was the theme of discourse. One evening I 
Invited a few of the young ladies of my society to meet at my 
house. She came with her companions. I had sought the 
interview with them, that I might more directly urge upon 
them the importance of religion. All in the room were 
affected — and she, though evidently moved, endeavored to 
conceal her feelings. 

The interest in this great subject manifested by those pres- 
ent was such, that I informed them that I would meet, in a 
week from that time, any who wished to come, for personal 
conversation. The appointed evening arrived, and I was 
delighted at seeing Louisa, in company with two or three 
others, enter my house. 

I conversed with each one individually. They generally, 
with much frankness, expressed their state of feeling. Most 
of them expressed much solicitude respecting their eternal 
interests. Louisa appeared different from all the rest. She 
was anxious, and unable to conceal her anxiety, and yet 
ashamed to have it known. She had come to converse with 



86 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Conversation with Louisa. 

me upon the subject of religion, and yet was making an 
evident effort to appear unconcerned. I had long felt inter- 
ested in Louisa, and was glad of this opportunity to converse 
with her. 

" Louisa," said I, "I am happy to see you here this eve- 
ning, and particularly so, as you have come interested in the 
subject of religion." 
She made no reply. 

" Have you been long thinking upon this subject, Louisa ?" 
" I always thought the subject important, sir, but have not 
attended to it as I suppose I ought to do." 

"Do you note feel the subject to be more important than 
you have previously ?" 

" I don't know, sir ; I think I wish to be a Christian." 
" Do you feel that you are a sinner, Louisa ?" 
" I know that I am a sinner, but I suppose that I do not 
feel it much." 

" I suppose you do not ; but consider, Louisa, how ungrate- 
ful and insensible the heart must be, not to feel its sins 
against God. God has made you, and he is now taking care 
of you, giving you every blessing and every enjoyment that 
you have, and yet you have lived many years without grati- 
tude to him, and have been continually breaking his com- 
mandments, and now do not feel that you are a sinner. 
What would you think of a child whose kind and affectionate 
parents had done every thing in their power to make her 
happy, and who should yet not feel that she had done any 
thing wrong, though she had been every day disobeying her 
parents, and had never expressed any gratitude for their 
kindness ? You, Louisa, would abhor such a child. And 
yet this is the way in which you have been treating your 
Heavenly Father. And he has heard you say this evening, 
that you do not feel that you have done wrong, and he sees 
vour heart and knows how unfeeling it is. Yor V.naw that 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 87 

Increasing interest. Unwilling to yield to Goa. 

you must be lost, unless you repent of your sins and ask 
humbly and earnestly for forgiveness. And why will you 
not do it ? You know that Christ has died to atone for sin, 
and that God will forgive you for his Son's sake, if you are 
penitent." 

To this Louisa made no reply. She did not seem displeas- 
ed, neither did she appear subdued. 

After addressing a few general remarks to my young 
friends, we kneeled in prayer, and the interview closed. 
Another meeting was appointed on the same evening of the 
succeeding week. Louisa again made her appearance with 
the same young ladies and a few others. She appeared 
much more deeply impressed. Her coldness and reserve had 
given place to a frank expression of interest and exhibition 
of feeling. 

"Well, Louisa," said I, as in turn I commenced convers- 
ing with her, " I was almost afraid that I should not see you 
here this evening." 

" I feel, sir," said she, " that it is time for me to attend to 
the salvation of my soul. I have neglected it too long." 

" Do you now feel that you are a sinner, Louisa ?" 

"Yes, sir, I do. w 

" Do you think, Louisa, that you have any claim upon God 
to forgive you ?" 

" No, sir. It would be just in God to leave me to perish. 
I think that I wish to repent, but I can not. I want to love 
God, but do not know how I can." 

" Do you remember, Louisa, that Christ has said, { Who- 
soever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he 
*»an not be my disciple V " 

"Yes, sir." 

" Well, Louisa, now count the cost ; are you ready to give 
up all for Christ ? Are you ready to turn from your gay 
companions, and lay aside your frivolous pleasures^ and 



83 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Her sickness. She sends for her pastor. 

acknowledge the Savior publicly, and be derided, as perhapa 
you trill be, by your former friends, and live a life of prayer 
and of effort to do good ?" 

She hesitated for a moment, and then replied, " I am 
afraid not." 

i; Well, Louisa, the terms of acceptance with God are 
plain, and there is no altering them. You can not serve God 
and mammon. If you would be a Christian, you must re- 
nounce all sin, and with a broken heart surrender yourself 
entirely to the Savior." 

The evening's interview closed as before, and a similar 
appointment was made for the next week. Some of the 
young ladies present, I had reason to believe, had accepted 
the terms of salvation. The next week about the same 
number were present, but Louisa was not with them ; a 
slight cold had detained her. But the week after, she again 
appeared. To my great disappointment I found her interest 
diminishing. Though not exhibiting that cold reserve winch 
she at first manifested, she seemed far less anxious than at 
our last interview : the Spirit was grieved away. This was 
the last time that she called to see me ; but, alas ! I was 
soon called to see her under circumstances which at that 
time were but little anticipated. These social meetings 
continued for some time, and many of Louisa's associates, I 
have cause to hope, became the disciples of Jesus. 

Two or three months passed away, and my various duties 
so far engrossed my mind, that my particular interest in 
Louisa's spiritual welfare had given place to other solici- 
tudes ; when one day as I was riding out, making parochial 
visits, one of my parishioners informed me that she was quite 
unwell, and desired to see me. In a few moments I was in 
her sick chamber. She had taken a violent cold, and it had 
settled into a fever. She was lying in her bed, her cheek 
glowing with the feverish hue, and her lips parched with 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 89 

Her alarm. Her increasing anxiety. 

thirst. She seemed agitated when I entered the room, and 
the moment I stood by her bedside and inquired how she did, 
she covered her face with both hands and burst into a flood 
of tears. 

Her sister, who was by her bedside, immediately turned 
to me and said, " Sir, she is in great distress of mind. 
Mental agony has kept her awake nearly all night. She 
has wanted very much to see you, that you might converse 
with her." 

I was fearful that the agitation of her feelings might seri- 
ously injure her health, and did all that I could to soothe and 
quiet her. 

" But, sir," said Louisa, " I am sick, and may die ; I know 
that I am not a Christian, and if I die in this state of mind, 
what will become of me ? What will become of me ?" and 
sne again burst into tears. 

"What could I say ? Every word that she said was true. 
Her eyes were opened to her danger. There was cause for 
alarm. Sickness was upon her. Delirium might soon ensue ; 
death might be very near ; and her soul was unprepared to 
appear before God. She saw it all ; she felt it all. Fever 
was burning in her veins. But she forgot her pain, in view 
of the terrors of the approaching judgment. 

I told her that the Lord was good, and that his tender 
mercies were over all his works ; that He was more ready 
to forgive than we to ask forgiveness. 

" But, sir," said she, " I have known my duty long, and 
have not done it. I have been ashamed of the Savior, and 
grieved away the Spirit ; and now I am upon a sick bed, 
and perhaps must die. 0, if I were but a Christian, I should 
be willing to die." 

I told her of the Savior's love. I pointed to many of God's 
precious promises to the penitent. I endeavored to induce 
her to resign her soul calmly to the Savior. But all was 



90 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Death-bed repentance. Increasing sickness, and mental suffering. 

unavailing. Trembling and agitated she was looking for* 
ward to the dark future. The Spirit of the Lord had opened 
her eyes, and through her own reflections had led her into 
this state of alarm. I knelt by her bedside and fervently 
prayed that the Holy Spirit would guide her to the truth, 
and that the Savior would speak peace to her troubled soul. 

could they, who are postponing repentance to a sick bed, 
have witnessed the suffering of this once merry girl, they 
would shudder at the thought of trusting to a dying hour. 
How poor a time to prepare to meet God, when the mind is 
enfeebled, when the body is restless or racked with pain, and 
when mental agitation frustrates the skill of the physician. 
Yet so it is. One half of the world is postponing repentance 
to a dying bed. And when sickness comes, the very thought 
of being unprepared hurries the miserable victim to the grave. 

The next day I called again to see Louisa. Her fever was 
still raging, and its fires were fanned by mental suffering. 
Poor girl ! thought I, as the first glance of her countenance 
showed the strong lineaments of despair. I needed not to 
ask how she felt. Her countenance told her feelings. And 

1 knew that while her mind was in this state, restoration to 
health was out of the question. 

"And can you not, Louisa," said I, "trust your soul with 
the Savior who died for you ? He has said, ' Come unto me 
all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you 
rest.' " 

" 0, sir, I know the Savior is merciful, but somehow or 
other I can not go to him, I know not why — 0, 1 am misera- 
ble indeed." 

" Do you think, Louisa, that you are penitent for sin ? If 
you are, you are forgiven ; for God who gave his Son to did 
for us, is more ready to pardon than we to ask forgiveness. 
He is more ready to give good gifts to the penitent than any 
earthly parent to give bread to his hungry child." 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 91 

Louisa's despair. The morning visit. 

1 then opened the Bible at the 15th chapter of Luke, and 
read the parable of the prodigal son. I particularly directed 
her attention to the 20th verse : " When he was yet a great 
way off his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, 
and fell upon his neck and kissed him." 

"0, sir," said she, "none of these promises are for me. 
1 find no peace to my troubled spirit. I have long been sin- 
ning against God, and now he is summoning me to render 
up my account, and ! what an account have I to render ! 
The doctor gives me medicine, but I feel that it does no 
good, for I can think of nothing but my poor soul. Even if 
I were perfectly well, I could hardly endure the view which 
God has given me of my sins. If they were forgiven, how 
happy should I be ! but now — !" — her voice was stopped by 
a fit of shuddering, which agitated those around her with the 
fear that she might be dying. Soon, however, her nerves were 
more quiet, and I kneeled to commend her spirit to the Lord. 

As I rode home, her despairing countenance was unceas- 
ingly before me. Her lamentations, her mournful groans, 
were continually crying in my ears. As I kneeled with my 
family at evening prayer, I bore Louisa upon my heart to the 
throne of grace. All night I was restless upon my pillow, 
dreaming of unavailing efforts at this sick bed. 

Another morning came. As I knocked at the door of her 
dwelling, I felt a most painful solicitude as to the answer I 
might receive. 

" How is Louisa this morning ?" said 1 to the person who 
opened the door. 

" She is fast failing, sir, and the doctor thinks she can not 
recover. We have just sent for her friends to come and see 
her before she dies." 

" Is her mind more composed than it has been ?" 

" no, sir. She has had a dreadful night. She says that 
she is lost, and that there is no hope for her." 



92 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Her aib ice to her young friends. Last visit. 

I went into her chamber. Despair was pictured more 
deeply than ever upon her flushed and fevered countenance. 
I was surprised at the strength she still manifested as she 
tossed from side to side. Death was evidently drawing near. 
She knew it. She had lived without God, and felt that she 
was unprepared to appear before him. A few of her young 
friends were standing by her bedside. She warned them in 
the most affecting terms to prepare for death while in health. 
She told them of the mental agony she was then enduring, 
and of the heavier woes which were thickly scattered 
through that endless career which she was about to enter. 
All her conversation was interspersed with the most heart- 
rending exclamations of despair. She said she knew that 
God was ready to forgive the sincerely penitent, but that her 
sorrow was not sorrow for sin, but dread of its awful penalty. 

I had already said all that I could to lead her to the 
Savior — but no Savior cast his love on this dying bed — no 
ray of peace cheered the departing soul. -Youth and beauty 
were struggling with death ; and the eye which but a few 
days before had sparkled with gayety, was now fixed in an 
expression of despair. 

" By many a death-bed I had been, 
And many a sinner's parting seen, 
But never aught like this." 

There was nothing that could be said. The moaninofs 
of the sufferer mingled with the prayer, which was almost 
inarticulately uttered, from the emotions which the scene in- 
spired. 

Late in the afternoon I called again. But her reason was 
gone, and in restless agony she was grappling with death. 
Her friends were standing around her, but she did not recog- 
nize them. Every eye in the room was filled with tears, 
but poor Louisa saw not, and heeded not their weeping. It 



CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY 93 

Her sufferings. She dies at midnigh*, 

was a scene which neither pen nor pencil can portray. At 
the present moment, that chamber of death is as vividly- 
present to my mind as it was when I looked upon it through 
irrepressible tears. I can now see the disorder of the dying 
bed — the restless form — the swollen veins — the hectic burn- 
ing cheek — the eyes rolling wildly around the room — and 
the weeping friends. Who can describe such a scene ? 
And who can imagine the emotions which one must feel 
who knew her history, and who knew that this delirium suc- 
ceeded temporal, and perhaps preceded eternal despair, 
Louisa could no longer listen to my prayers ; she could no 
longer receive the precious instructions of God's Word. And 
what could be said to console her friends ? Nothing. " Be 
still, and know that I am God," was all that could be said. 
I could only look and listen with reverence, hrwardly pray- 
ing that the sad spectacle might not be lost upon any of us 
At length, and in silence and sadness, I went away. 

Early the next morn- 
ing I called at the door 
to inquire for Louisa. 

" She is dead, sir," 
was the reply to my 
question. 

" At what time did 
she die?" 

" About midnight, 
sir." 

" Was her reason 
restored before her 
death?" 

" It appeared par- 
tially to return a few 
moments before she 
breathed her last, but "she is dead, sir. 




94 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Her feelings at last. 



she was almost gone, and we could hardly understand what 
she said." 

" Did she seem any more peaceful in her mind?" 
" Her friends thought, sir, that she did express a willing- 
ness to depart, but she was so weak and so far gone that it 
was impossible for her to express her mind with any clear- 
ness." 

This is all that can be said of the eternal prospects of 
one who " ivished to live a gay and merry life till just 
before death, and then to become pious and die happy" 

Reader ! " be wise to-day — 'tis madness to defer" 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 95 

Almost a Christian. Louisa's case a common one. 



CHAPTER V. 

ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 
" Ye y> T ill not come unto me." 

The melancholy story related in the last chapter is not 
an uncommon one. It is the story of thousands. All that 
is necessary, reader, to make the case your own, is that 
you should feel such a degree of interest in religious duty 
as to open your eyes clearly to its claims upon you, but yet 
not enough to induce you cordially to comply with them, — 
and then that death should approach you while you are thus 
unprepared. The gloomy forebodings and the dreadful re- 
morse which darkened Louisa's last hours, must in such a 
case be yours. 

It was not my intention, when forming the plan of this 
work, that it should present religious truth and duty in 
gloomy or melancholy aspects. Religion is a most cheerful 
and happy thing to practice, but a most sad and melan- 
choly thing to neglect ; and as undoubtedly some who read 
this book will read it only to understand their duty, without 
at all setting their hearts upon the performance of it, I ought 
to devote one or two chapters particularly to them. The 
case of Louisa, though it was a melancholy one, was real. 
And what has once occurred, may occur again. You will 
observe, too, that all the suffering which she manifested iu 
her dying hour was the work of conscience. The minister 
did all that he could to soothe and calm her. Examine all 



96 YOUNG christian. 



Neglecting duty when it is pointed out. 



the conversation he had with her at her bedside, and you 
will find that it was the language of kind invitation. 

Sometimes such a dying scene as this is the portion of 
an individual who has lived a life of open and unbridled 
wickedness. But, generally, continued impiety and vice 
lull the conscience into a slumber which it requires a 
stronger power than that of sickness or approaching death 
to awaken. Louisa was almost a Christian. She was 
nearly persuaded to begin a life of piety. In just such a 
state of mind, my reader, it is very probable you may be. 
Perhaps since you have been reading this book, you have 
been thinking more and more seriously of your Christian 
duty, and have felt a stronger and stronger intention of doing 
it, at least at some future time. You ought, after having 
read the first chapter, to have gone at once, and fully con 
fessed all your sins to God. When you read the second, you 
should have cordially welcomed the Savior as your friend, 
and chosen him as your Redeemer and portion. You ought 
to have been induced by the third to begin immediately a 
life of prayer, and to have been constant and ardent at 
the throne of grace since you read it. But perhaps you 
neglected all this. You understand very clearly what 
Christian duty is. It is plain to you that there is a Being 
above with whom you ought to live in constant communion. 
You understand clearly how you are to begin your duty, if 
you have neglected it heretofore, by coming and confessing 
all your sins, and seeking forgiveness through Jesus Christ, 
who has died for you. Thus you know what duty is. The 
solitary difficulty is, that you ivill not do it. 

But why ? What can be the cause of that apparent 
infatuation which consists in continually neglecting a duty 
which you acknowledge to be a duty, and which you know 
it would increase your happiness to perform ? Were I to 
ask you. it is very probable you would say what I have 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 97 

How to begin your duty. Design of this chapter. Procrastination. 

known a great many others to say in your situation ; it 
would be this : 

4i I know that I am a sinner against God, and I wish to 
repent and to be forgiven, and to love and serve my Maker, 
but I do not see how I can repent." 

My reader, is this your state of mind ? Many persons do 
use this language, and use it honestly. That is, they use 
it honestly, if they mean by it what the language properly 
does mean, that they see the propriety, and duty, and hap- 
piness of a new life, so that in some sense they desire it, 
but that some secret cause, which they have not yet dis- 
covered, prevents their obedience. I design in this chapter 
to help you to discover what that cause is. If you really 
wish to discover and to remove it, you will read the chapter 
carefully, with a willingness to be convinced, and you will 
often pause to apply what is said, to your own case. 

There are three very common causes which operate to 
prevent persons, who are almost Christians, from becoming 
so altogether. 

I. A spirit of procrastination. Waiting for a more con- 
venient season. The following case illustrates this part of 
our subject : 

A boy of about twelve or fourteen years of age, a member 
of an academy, in which he is pursuing his studies prepara- 
tory to his admission to college, sees the duty of commencing 
a Christian life. He walks some evening at sunset alone over 
the green fields which surround the village in which he 
resides, and the stillness and beauty of the scene around him 
bring him to a serious and thoughtful frame of mind. God 
is speaking to him in the features of beauty and splendor 
in which the face of nature is decked. The glorious 
western sky reminds him of the hand which spread its 
glowing colors. He looks into the dark grove in the edge 
of which he is walking, and its expression of deep, un- 

E 



05 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The student's evening walk. 




THE WALK. 



broken solitude, brings 
a feeling of calm so- 
lemnity over his soul. 
The declining sun, — 
the last faint whispers 
of the dying evening 
breeze, — the solitary 
and mournful note 
which comes to him 
from a lofty branch of 
some tall tree in the 
depth of the forest, — 
these and the thousand 
other circumstances of 
such a scene, speak to 
him most distinctly of 
the flight of time, and 
of the approach of that evening when the sun of his life is to 
decline, and this world cease forever to be his home. 

As he muses in this scene, he feels the necessity of a 
preparation for death, and as he walks slowly homeward, 
he is almost determined to come at once to the conclusion 
to commence immediately a life of piety. He reflects, how 
ever, upon the unpleasant publicity of such a change. He 
has many irreligious friends whom it is hard to relinquish, 
and he shrinks from forming new acquaintances in a place 
that he is so soon to leave. He reflects that he is soon to 
be transferred to college, and that there he can begin anew. 
He resolves that when he enters college walls, he will enter 
a Christian ; that he will from the first be known as one 
determined to do his duty toward God. He will form no 
irreligious friendships, and then he will have none to sunder. 
He will fall into no irreligious practices, and then he will 
have none to abandon. He thinks he can thus avoid the 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 



99 



The admission to college. 



Tho college walk. 



awkwardness of a public change. He is ungenerous enough 
to wish to steal thus secretly into the kingdom of heaven, 
without humbling his pride by an open admission that he 
has been wrong. He waits for a more convenient season. 

When he finds himself on college ground, however, his 
heart does not turn any more easily to his duties toward God 
than before. First, there is the feverish interest of the ex- 
amination, — then the novelty of the public recitation-room, — 
the untried, unknown instructer, — the new room-mate, — and 
all the multiplied and varied excitements which are always 
to be found in college walls. There are new acquaintances 
to be formed, new countenances to speculate upon, and new 
characters to study, and in these and similar objects of occu- 
pation and interest, week after week, glides rapidly away. 
At last on Saturday evening, the last of the term, he is walk- 




THE COLLEGE WALK. 



100 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Resolution. Reflections. Resolutions for senior year. 

ing over the college grounds, and among the other serious re- 
flections that come upon his mind, there are the following : 

" One whole term has now passed, and what have become 
of all my resolutions to return to God ? How swiftly the 
weeks have glided away, and I have been going farther and 
farther away from God and from duty. I find that I can not 
in college, any more than in any other place, become a 
Christian without effort and self-denial. I must come boldly 
to the duty of giving up my heart to God, and commencing 
publicly a Christian life ; and whenever I do this, it must be 
hard at first. I will attend to the subject this vacation. I 
shall be quiet and retired at home, and shall have a favora- 
ble opportunity there to attend to my duty, and return to 
God. I will come back to college next term a new man." 

Such are his reflections. Instead of resolving to do his 
duty noiv, he looks forward again, notwithstanding his former 
disappointment, to another more convenient seaso?i. The 
bustle of the closing term, and the plans and preparations for 
the approaching vacation, soon engross his mind, and instead 
of coming to his Maker at once, and going home a Christian, 
he goes away as he is, in hopes to return one. Yain hope ! 
He will undoubtedly come back as he goes, procrastinating 
duty. 

Term after term, and vacation after vacation pass away, 
and the work of preparing for another world is still post- 
poned and neglected. The longer it is postponed, the worse 
it is, for the student is becoming more and more known as 
an irreligious young man, and more and more intimately con- 
nected with those whose influence is all against religion. He 
soon quiets conscience with the reflection, that while he is in 
one of the lower classes, he is much more under the control 
of public opinion than he will be at a later period ; others, 
older and more advanced than he, take the lead in forming 
the sentiments of the communitv, and it is harder for him to 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 101 

Resolutions for future life. Secret of procrastination. 

act independently now, on a subject which affects his stand- 
ing in the estimation of his' companions, than it will be when 
he shall have passed on to a higher class, and shall have in- 
fluence in forming a public sentiment to act upon others, in- 
stead of having others to form it for him. 

The closing months of college life at last come on, bringing 
with them less and less disposition to do his duty. He has be- 
come familiarized to the idea of living without God. His long 
and intimate acquaintance with irreligious companions has 
bound him to them by ties which he is not willing to sunder. 
Not ties of affection ; for there is seldom much confidence or 
love in such a case. They are ties of mere acquaintance, — 
mere community of sentiment and action. Yet he dreads to 
break away from what gives him little pleasure, and is thus 
bound by a mysterious and unreasonable, but almost hopeless 
slavery. He leaves college, either utterly confirmed in insen- 
sibility to religious truth, or else when he occasionally thinks 
of the subject, faintly hoping that in the bustle of future life 
some more convenient season may occur, which he may seize 
as a time for making his peace with God. 

This is the history of many a college student, and by a 
slight change of the circumstances of the description, it might 
be made the history of thousands of others in every walk of 
life. The secret of this procrastination is this: The subject 
of it is deluded by the chimerical hope of finding some oppor- 
tunity of coming to God ivithout real submission, — some way 
of changing sides on a most momentous subject, without the 
mortification of changing, — of getting right without the hu 
miliating acknowledgment of having been wrong. Now 
'these difficulties, which constitute the straitness of the gate 
through which we must enter, can not be avoided. We 
can not go round them, — we can not climb up some other 
way, and it is useless to wait for some other way to offer. 
The work of coming directly and decidedly to our Maker, to 



102 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The accepted time. Second cause. Love of the world. 

confess sin, and to ask his forgiveness, must be done. The 
public acknowledgment, that we have been wrong, which a 
public change of conduct implies, must be made, and it will 
be painful. Irreligious friends must, as intimates and asso- 
ciates, be abandoned ; and whenever that is done, it ivill re- 
quire an effort. These steps must be taken, and the dim* 
culty of taking them is increased, not diminished, by the 
lapse of time. 

My reader, is not the reason why you can not repent of sin 
and love God this, — that you can never say, "I am willing 
to do it now?" Are you willing to be, from this time, the 
servant and follower of Jehovah, or are you trying the mad 
experiment of postponement and delay ! 

II. Love of the World. This is the second of those three 
secret obstacles to piety which I was to mention ; I mean 
secret obstacles in the way of those who think that they wish 
to be penitent, but that they can not be. I am not now con- 
sidering the causes which are operating so extensively in 
chaining the great mass of mankind down in their bondage 
to sin ; I speak only of those who feel some interest in this 
subject, who think that they desire salvation, and are willing 
to do what God requires, but can not. Under this second 
head, I am to endeavor to show that many of my readers who 
are in this state of mind, are prevented from doing their duty 
by a secret love of the world. I shall not, however, succeed 
in showing this, unless you co-operate with me. If, while 
you read it, you put yourself in an attitude of defense, you 
can easily set aside what I have to say. I shall suppose, 
however, that you really wish to know, and that you will ap- 
ply what I present, with impartiality and candor to your- 
selves. 

In one sense, it is right to love the world. God has made 
it for our enjoyment, and filled it with sources of happiness, 
for the very purpose of having us enjoy them. We are to 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 1(33 

Temptations. Sacrifices necessary. 

look upon it, therefore, as a scene in which the Creator in- 
tended that we should be happy, and we are to derive from 
it all the happiness that we can. 

There are, however, temptations in this world, as all will 
admit ; that is, pleasures which beckon us away from duty. 
When a young person begins to think of religious duty, these 
pleasures which have perhaps long been enjoyed, come up to 
view, — not very distinctly, but still with so much effect as to 
blind the mind, and harden the heart. Perhaps, my reader, 
you can think of some irreligious companion, whom you know 
you must give up, if you become an open and decided Chris 
tian. Even if you do not give up him, you expect that he 
will give up you, if such a change should take place in your 
character, Now although you do not distinctly make a com- 
parison between the pleasures of his society on the one side, 
and the peace and happiness of religion on the other, and 
after balancing their claims, decide against God and duty, — 
although you make no formal decision like this, yet the image 
of that friend, and the recollection of the past pleasures of 
his society, and the prospect of future enjoyment, come into 
your mind, and secretly hold you a prisoner. The chain is 
wound around your heart, and its pressure is so gentle, that 
you scarcely perceive it. Still it holds you firmly, and until 
you loosen the link, it will hold you. You do right, while 
you are in this state of mind, to say that you can not love God. 
Our Savior says the same. " If any man come to me, and 
hate not/' that is, is not cordially willing to give up, if 
necessary, "his father, and mother, and wife, and sisters, yea, 
and his own life also, he can not be my disciple." You can 
not be the disciple of Christ, till you are willing to give up 
the world in all its forms. 

Perhaps it is not a. friend which keeps you from the Savior, 
but some other object. You may indulge yourself in some 
practice which conscience secretly condemns. Perhaps there 



104 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Third cause. Fear of the world. 

is a favorite amusement which you must give up if you should 
become a consistent Christian. You do not, perhaps, distinct- 
ly bring it up before your mind, into formal comparison with 
the hope of a happy immortality, and decide openly and 
knowingly in its favor. Its influence is more secret. It 
insinuates itself stealthily into your mind, and shuts all 
avenues against the light. You wonder that you do not see 
and feel, and can not discover the cause. 

III. Fear of the ivorld. Where love of the world binds 
one soul in sin, the fear of it, in some form or other, binds 
ten. Every one is surrounded by a circle of influence, it may 
be small or great, which is hostile to piety. To take the 
attitude of a humble Christian in the presence of this circle 
of acquaintances and friends, to abandon your past course of 
conduct with the acknowledgment that it has been entirely 
wrong, and to encounter the cold and forbidding, or perhaps 
scornful looks of those whom you have been accustomed to 
call your friends, — all this is trying. You shrink from it. 
You do not very distinctly take it into consideration, but it 
operates with an influence the more unmanageable, because 
it is unseen. My object in alluding to it here, therefore, is 
to bring it out to view, that you may distinctly see it, and 
bring fairly up the question whether you will submit to be 
deterred by such a consideration from doing your duty toward 
your Maker. 

These three reasons are ordinarily the causes why those 
who are almost Christians, do not become so altogether. 
They are strong reasons. They hold a great many individ- 
uals in lasting bondage, and they will probably continue to 
hold many of my readers in their chains. It is no small 
thing, and with hearts and habits like ours, it is no easy 
thing to become a Christian. The inquiry is not unfre- 
quently made, why the preaching of the Gospel in this world 
produces such partial effects, and surprise is expressed that 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 105 



Difficulties foretold by the Savior. Entire surrender required. 

so lew are found to comply with its reasonable claims, and 
to respect its awful sanctions. But when we look at those 
circumstances in the case which exhibit the greatness of the 
sacrifice which every man must make who really becomes a 
Christian in a world like this, we may rather be surprised 
that so many are found to come to the Savior, than that there 
are so few. 

Jesus Christ foretold all these obstacles. He was very 
frank and open in all his statements. He never has intended 
to bring any one into unforeseen difficulties. He stated very 
plainly what he expected of his followers ; he described the 
sacrifices which they must make to please him, and the 
troubles that they must endure ; and when he left them at 
last, he told them plainly that if they should persevere in his 
service after he was gone, they must go on expecting to suffer, 
to bleed and to die in his cause. 

" Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he 
hath, he can not be my disciple." How strong an expression ! 
What an entire surrender of the individuals addressed does 
it require ! And yet Christ says, " My yoke is easy and my 
burden is light." How is this ? Does not the first declara- 
tion imply that the service of Christ is a hard service ? And 
does not the latter imply that it is easy ? There are two 
classes of passages in the Scriptures which seem, on this point, 
to speak a different language. But the explanation is this : 
It is hard for you to come to Jesus Christ. Worldly pleasures 
beckon you away. Dangers and difficulties frown upon you, 
and above all the rest, pride, — pride, that most unconquer- 
able of enemies, stands erect and sternly forbids you to take 
the attitude of a humble Christian. Now all these obstacles 
you must overcome. The world must be relinquished ; the 
claims of even father and mother, if they interfere with duty 
to God, must give way ; the trials which in a life of piety 
will await you, must be boldly encountered, and pride must 

E^ 



10G YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Real submission. Changing sides. 

yield. But when this is done — the surrender once made- 
all is happy ; the yoke is easy, and the burden is light. If 
the heart is really submissive to God, if its own affections 
have indeed been crucified, and if God really reigns there, 
peace comes ; and peace and happiness will really reign, 
unless returning pride and worldliness renew the struggle. 
The government of God in the soul is a government which 
regulates, but does not enslave ; it diffuses over the heart 
unmingled peace and happiness. 

Let all then distinctly understand that there is no becom 
ing a disciple of Jesus Christ without real submission, and 
submission is no pleasant work for human nature to perform. 
It is hard for us to acknowledge that we have been wrong ; 
to bow to a power which we have long opposed, and thus 
publicly and openly to change sides on a subject which di- 
vides the world. But it must be done. Enmity to God, or 
uncompromising submission to his will, is the only alternative. 

It is right that this should be the only alternative. Just 
consider the facts. The Creator of all has proclaimed as the 
law of his empire, that all beings should love him supremely, 
and their fellows as themselves. We have always known 
that this was his law ; we know too that it is reasonable in 
its nature, and most excellent in its tendency. No man can 
say that it is not exactly calculated to promote universal 
happiness ; nor can any man deny that its almost unceasing 
violation here has filled the world with misery and crime. 
Now, excellent and reasonable as this law is, there are mil- 
lions in the human family who have spent all their lives in 
the continued, unceasing violation of it. They know that 
they never have, for a single moment, loved God supremely, 
or loved their neighbors as themselves. All of us who are, 
or who have been in this state, have been plainly taking side 
against God, and against the general happiness, We have 
been violating known duty, continued in acknowledged sin ; 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 107 

Address to a young man. Good to be done. 

and the effect has not been confined to ourselves ; the evil 
influence has diffused itself around us. Our example has 
been in favor of irreligion ; and as our sin has thus been 
public, can we complain that God should require our ac- 
knowledgment to be public too ? ±\o ; submission to God 
must be entire, unqualified, unreserved, or we can not expect 
God to receive it. 

But let me be more particular. Perhaps some young man 
who reads this, is almost persuaded to be a Christian. He 
is still an irreligious man. I do not mean that he is opposed 
to religion, but that he is without piety. Were I to address 
such an one individually, I would say to him, " You, sir, are 
probably to remain twenty or thirty years in the community 
of which you now form a part. These years will be in the 
very prime of your life. Your influence is now great ; it is 
increasing, and it must increase. God has brought you into 
this scene. Your original powers and your education you 
owe to him. The habits of industry and integrity which you 
have acquired, would not have been yours without his aid. 
He has held you up and brought you forward ; and now, as 
the opening prospects of usefulness and happiness lie before 
you, he wishes you to come to him and to assist in the execu- 
tion of his plans for the promotion of human happiness. 
Will you come ? There will be a great deal of suffering 
which you can alleviate during the twenty years that are 
before you, if you will set your heart upon alleviating suffer- 
ing. There will be much vice which your influence may 
prevent, if you will exert it aright. You may be the means 
too of bringing many an unhappy sinner to the Savior, if you 
will but come and love that Savior yourself, and seek to 
promote his cause." " But no," do you say ? " I have been, 
I acknowledge, in the wrong, but I can not bow to truth and 
duty, and humble pride, abandon my ground, and stand be 
fore the world the acknowledged victim of folly and sin.'' 



108 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

The unchristian parent. Submission hard. The ycuth. 

Then you can not serve God. Unless you will do this, you 
can not be Christ's disciple. 

Is there an unchristian parent who reads these pages ? 
God has especial claims upon you in your family circle. 
You are molding the hearts of these children by your 
influence, and the lineaments which your daily example is 
calling forth here are probably to last. You are doing work 
for a very long futurity. You endeavor to promote the hap- 
piness of your children for this life, but God wishes to make 
them happy forever, and he invites you to come and co-op- 
erate with him in the noble design. But you can not co-op- 
erate with him until you join him. If you have been against 
him thus far, you can not join him without submission. 
"But ah !" you say, — "that word submission! It is hard 
to submit." I know it is hard. For example, you have 
perhaps neglected family prayer. You can not be the friend 
of God and do your duty fully till it is begun. You can not 
join with him in promoting the eternal happiness of your son 
or your daughter, till you are willing to make up your mind 
to bow before your Maker at the iireside altar for the first 
time. And when you do it in a proper spirit, for the first 
time, you acknowledge the guilt of past neglect, — you take 
the attitude of a humbled, altered man. This is submission, 
and without it you can not enter the kingdom of heaven. 
God requires you to do this, but his sole motive for requiring 
it is, probably, that he may make you a happy fellow worker 
with him. 

Look at that youth, the favored object in the circle of 
friends and companions in which he moves. His upright 
character has commanded respect, and his amiable disposi- 
tion has secured affection. His companions seek his society 
— they observe and imitate his example — they catch and 
adopt his opinions. He has never, perhaps, said a word 
against religion. He complies respectfully with all its ex* 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 109 



Submission necessary. 



ternal observances, and in fine does all which he can do 
without being personally humbled. But how would he 
shrink from having it whispered about in the circle in which 
he niDves, that he is anxious for the salvation of his soul ! 
How unwilling would he be that it should be known that he 
went to his pastor for personal religious instruction, or that 
he had taken any step which should admit before all men 
that he had been himself, personally, a guilty rebel against 
God, and that he wished to change sides now, and do good 
as openly and as publicly as he had before done injury ! But 

! reflect ; you have taken an open stand against God, and 
are you not willing to take an open stand in his favor ? I 
know it is painful — it is the very crucifixion of the flesh ; 
but God can not propose any other terms than that those 
who have been open enemies should become open friends, 
and no generous mind can ask any easier conditions. 

Indeed sometimes it has appeared to me, that if another 
mode of entering the kingdom of heaven had been proposed, 
we should see, ourselves, its impropriety. Suppose the Sa- 
vior were to say to a sinner thus : " You have been my en- 
emy, I know. In this controversy which has existed between 
God and his revolted subjects, you have taken the wrong 
side. You have been known to be without piety, and for 
many long years you have been exerting an influence 
against God, and against the happiness of the creation. But 

1 am ready to forgive you, if you will return to me now. 
And as publicly giving up in such a controversy is always 
painful to the pride of the human heart, I will excuse you 
from this. You may come secretly and be my friend, to 
save you the mortification of publicly changing sides in a 
question on which your opinions and your conduct have so 
long been known." 

To this, a spirit of any nobleness or generosity would reply, 
" If I have been in the wrong, I freely acknowledge that I 



110 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Why it is so difficult to become a Christian. The jailer's submission. 

have, — I choose openly to avow it. My recantation shall bo 
known as extensively as my sin. I will not come and make 
my peace secretly with God, and leave my example to go on 
as it has done, alluring others to live in sin. If pride remon- 
strates, I will cut it down ; and if my comrades deride me 
for the change, I will bear their reproaches. They can not 
injure me as much as my ungodly example and influence has 
injured them." 

Whether however the sinner sees the necessity of his 
being really humbled before he is forgiven, or not — God sees 
it — every holy being sees it ; and Jehovah's determination 
is fixed. We must submit, or we can not be pardoned. 

Do you not now, my reader, see what is the reason why 
you can not be a Christian ? You say you wish to repent, 
but can not, and in nine out of ten of such cases the difficult} 
is, you are not cordially willing to give up all to God. Pride 
is not yet humbled, or the world is not yet surrendered, and 
until it is, you can not expect peace. You know that you 
have been wrong — and you wish now to be right ; but this 
can not be without an open change, and such an open 
change you shrink from. The jailer who came trembling to 
know what he must do to be saved, was told to repent and 
be baptized immediately. How humiliating ! to appear the 
next morning as a spectacle to the whole community, — a 
stern public officer bowed down to submission through the 
influence of the very prisoners committed to his charge. 
Yet he was willing to encounter it. And you — if you can 
just consent to yield — to yield every thing — throw down 
every weapon, and give up every refuge, and come now to 
the Savior, bearing your cross — that is, bringing life and rep- 
utation, and all that you hold dear, and placing it at his su- 
preme disposal, you may depend upon forgiveness and peace. 
But while your heart is full of reservations, while the world 
retains its hold and pride is unsubdued, and you are thus 



ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. Ill 

Subject dismissed. Perplexities. 

unwilling openly and decidedly to take the right side, is it 
unjust or unkind in God to consider you as upon the wrong 
one ? — Far be it from me to advocate ostentation in piety. 
The humble, retiring Christian, who communes with his 
own heart and with God, is in the best road to growth in 
grace, and to usefulness ; but every one ought to be willing, 
and, if he is really penitent, willbe willing, that the part he 
takes in this great question should be known. 

I now dismiss this subject, not to resume it again in this 
volume. Knowing that there would undoubtedly be many 
among the readers of this book who can only be called almost 
Christians, I could not avoid devoting a chapter or two to 
them. I have now explained as distinctly as I have been 
able to do it, the submission of the heart which is necessary 
in becoming a Christian, and what are the difficulties in the 
way. I should evince but a slight knowledge of the human 
heart if I were not to expect that many who read this will 
still remain only almost Christians. I must here, however, 
take my final leave of them, and invite the others — those who 
are willing now cordially to take the Savior as their portion, 
to go on with me through the remaining chapters of the 
book, which I shall devote entirely to those who are alto- 
gether Christians. 



112 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Difficulties in religion. 



CHAPTER VI. 

DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 

" The secret things belong unto the Lord our God." 

The Young Christian, conscientiously desiring to know 
and to do his duty, is often, at the outset of his course, per- 
plexed by a multitude of difficulties which are more or less 
directly connected with the subject of religion, and which 
will arise to his view. These difficulties in many cases can 
not be removed. The embarrassing perplexity, however, 
which arises from them, alivays can be, and it is to this sub- 
ject that I wish to devote the present chapter. My plan will 
be in the first place, to endeavor thoroughly to convince all 
who read it, that difficulties must be expected — difficulties 
too which they can not entirely surmount ; and in the second 
place, to explain and illustrate the spirit with which such per- 
plexities must be met. 

It is characteristic of the human mind not to be willing to 
wait long in suspense, on any question produced to view. 
When any new question or new subject comes before us, 
we grasp hastily at the little information in regard to it 
which is within our immediate reach, and then hurry to a 
decision. We are not often willing to wait to consider 
whether the subject is fairly within the grasp of our powers, 
and whether all the facts which are important to a proper 
consideration of it are before us. We decide at once. It is 
not pleasant to be in suspense. Suspense implies ignoranco, 
and to admit ignorance is humiliating. 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 113 

Mistakes. Stc ry of the Chinese and the map. 

Hence most persons have a settled belief upon almost every 
question which has been brought before them. In express- 
ing their opinions they tell us what they believe, and what 
they do not believe ; but very few people have a third class 
of questions which they acknowledge to be beyond their 
grasp, so that in regard to them they can neither believe nor 
disbelieve, but must remain in suspense. Now this is the 
secret of nine tenths of the difference of opinion, and of the 
sharp disputes, by which this world is made so noisy a scene. 
Men jump at conclusions before they distinctly understand 
the premises, and as each one sees only a part of what he 
ought to see before forming his opinion, it is not surprising 
that each should see a different part, and should consequent- 
ly be led to different results. They then fall into a dispute, 
each presenting his own partial view, and shutting his eyes 
to that exhibited by his opponent. 

Some of the mistakes which men thus fall into are melan- 
choly ; others only ludicrous. Some European traveler once 
exhibited a map of the world to a Chinese philosopher. The 
philosopher looked at it a few moments, and then turned with 
a proud and haughty look and said to the by-standers, "This 
map is entirely wrong ; the English know nothing of geog- 
raphy. They have placed China out upon one side of the 
world, whereas it is, in fact, exactly in the middle" 

Multitudes of amusing stories are related by travelers of 
the mistakes and misconceptions and false reasonings of 
semi-barbarous people, about the subjects of European 
science and .philosophy. These savages go to reasoning at 
once, and fall into the grossest errors — but still they have 
much more confidence in their senseless speculations, than 
in any evidence which their minds are capable of re- 
ceiving. 

But you will perhaps ask me whether I mean to compare 
the reader of this book to such savages. Yes ; the human 



114 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Difficulties in all subjects. Astronomical difficultiea. 



mind, in its tendencies, is everywhere the same. The 
truths which relate to the world of spirits are, to us, what 
European science is to a South Sea Islander. Our minds 
experience the same difficulty in grasping them, and we 
hurry to the same wild speculations and false conclusions. 

It is not surprising that the truths contained in a revela- 
tion from heaven should be beyond our grasp. We can not 
even fairly grasp the truths relating to the mere physical 
motions of this earth. "We know, for instance, that the 
distinction doivnivard is only toward the earth. Now let 
your imagination extend half round the globe. Think of 
the people who are standing upon it, exactly opposite to our- 
selves, and attempt to realize that downward is toward the 
earth there. You believe it, I know ; but can you, in the 
expressive phrase of children, make it seem so ? 

Again, you know, if you believe that the earth revolves, 
that the room you are in, revolves with it, and that con- 
sequently it was, six hours ago, in a position the reverse of 
what it now is, — so that the floor was in a direction cor- 
responding to that of the walls now. Now can you, by any 
mental effort, realize this ? Or will you acknowledge that 
even this simple astronomical subject is beyond your 
grasp ? 

Once more. Suppose the earth, and sun, and stars were 
all annihilated, and one small ball existed alone in space. 
You can imagine this state of things for a moment. Now 
there would be, as you well know, if you have the slightest 
astronomical knowledge, no down or up in such a case, for 
there would be no central body to attract. Now when you 
fancy this ball, thus floating in empty space, can you realize 
that there would be no tendency in it to move in one direc- 
tion rather than another ? You may beb<w*, on authority, 
that it would not move, but fix you' mm a upon it for a 
moment, and then look off from it, first in one direction 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 115 

Difficulties in religion to be exuected. Difficulties described. 



then in another, until you have looked in every direction. 
and can you make all these seem the same ? No, we can 
not divest ourselves of the impression that one of these 
is more properly up, and the other more properly down, 
though the slightest astronomical knowledge will convince 
us that this impression is a mere delusion. Even this 
simple and unquestionable truth is beyond the grasp of the 
human mind, at least until after it has, by very long con- 
templation on such subjects, divested itself of the prejudices 
of the senses. 

Is it surprising then, that when a revelation comes to us 
from a world which is entirely unseen and unknown, describ- 
ing to us in some degree God's character and the principles 
of his government, there should be many things in it which 
we can not now understand? 'No. There are, and from 
the nature of the case must be, a thousand difficulties 
insuperable to us at present. Now if we do not cordially 
feel and admit this, we shall waste much time in needless 
perplexity. My object, in this chapter, is to convince all 
who read it, that they must expect to find difficulties — 
insuperable difficulties — in the various aspects of religious 
truth, and to persuade you to admit this, and to repose 
quietly in acknowledged ignorance, in those cases where 
the human mind can not know. The difficulties are never 
questions of practical duty, and sometimes are very remotely 
connected with any religious truth. Some of them I shall 
however describe, not with the design of explaining them, 
because I purposely collect such as I believe can not be 
explained satisfactorily to young persons, but with the design 
of bringing all cordially to feel that they must necessarily be 
ignorant, and that they may as well honestly acknowledge 
their ignorance, as vainly attempt to deny or to conceal it. 

First difficulty. It is a common opinion that God existed 
before the creation of the world, alone and unemployed 



116 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



First difficulty. Attempt to avoid it. 

from eternity. Now the difficulty is this : How could a 
being who was infinite in benevolence and power spend all 
that infinite period, in utter inaction, when it might have 
been employed in making millions and millions happy ? The 
creation was not far from six thousand years ago, and a 
period of six thousand years, compared with the eternity 
beyond, is nothing. So that it follows that almost the whole 
of the existence of a benevolent and omnipotent Being, who 
delights in doing good and promoting happiness, has been 
spent in doing nothing. 

Perhaps some one will make a feeble effort to escape from 
the difficulty by supposing, what is very probably true, that 
other worlds were created long before this. But let such an 
one consider, that however remote the first creation may have 
been, there is beyond it, so far as we can see, an eternity of 
solitude and inaction. 

Remember I say, so far as ive can see, for I am very far 
from really believing that the universe has ever been the life- 
less void which such a speculation w T ould infer to have once 
existed. I neither believe it nor disbelieve it. I know 
nothing about it ; I pan see and reason just far enough to 
perceive that the whole subject is beyond my grasp, and 
I leave it, contented not to know, and not to pretend to 
know any thing about it. 

After reading these remarks at one time to an assembly 
of young persons, several of them gathered around me, and 
attempted to show that there was in fact no difficulty in this 
first case. 

" Why," said I, " what explanation have you ?" 

"I think," was the reply, "that God might have been 
creating worlds from all eternity, and thus never have been 
unemployed." 

"If that had been the case," replied I, "would or would 
not some one of these worlds have been eternal ?" 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 117 



Conversation. Second difficulty. 

" Yes, sir," they all answered with one voice. 

" Then yen suppose that some of these worlds were eternal, 
and others not. The first which were created had no begin- 
ning ; but after a time, according to this hypothesis, Jehovah 
began to create them at different periods. This is evidently 
absurd. Besides, those which were eternal, must have ex- 
isted as long as God has existed ; and if you admit that, it 
seems that you must admit that they are independent of God ; 
for if they have existed forever, they could not have been 
created." 

One of the party attempted to avoid this conclusion, by 
saying, that though the whole series of creations has been 
eternal, yet that every particular creation may have been at 
some definite point of time ; so that each one world has had 
but a limited existence, though the icliole series has been 
eternal. 

" But," said I, " sun you conceive — clearly conceive — of an 
eternal series of creations of -matter, without believing that 
some rnoMer itself is eternal ? And if you suppose matter it- 
self to be eternal, can you understand how God- can have 
created that which has existed as long as he has existed 
himself?" 

This was the substance of the conversation, which, how- 
ever, in all its details, occupied half an hour. And I believe 
all who engaged in it cordially acknowledged that the whole 
subject was entirely beyond the grasp of their minds. 

As this book may fall into the hands of some theological 
scholar, I beg that he will bear in mind, that I do not pre- 
sent this subject as one that would perplex him, but as one 
which must perplex the young. I maintain only, that what- 
ever trained metaphysicians may understand, or fancy that 
they can understand, it is entirely beyond the reach of such 
minds as those for whom this book is intended. 

Second difficulty. When in a still and cloudless summei 



118 IOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Extent of the creation. A star, a great blazing sun. 

evening, you have looked among the stars of the sky, you 
have often wondered at the almost boundless extent of the 
creation. That faint star which twinkles so feebly, that you 
almost fear that the next gentle breeze will extinguish it, or 
that the next light cloud will sweep it away, has burned with 
the same feeble but inextinguishable beam ever since the 
creation. The sun has blazed around the heavens — storms 
have agitated and wrecked the skies — the moon has waxed 
and waned over it ; but it burns on the same. It may be ob- 
scured by some commotion of the elements for a time ; but 
when cloud and storm have passed away, you will find it 
shining on unchanged, in the same place, and with the same 
brightness, and with precisely the same hue which it exhibit- 
ed before the flood. 

It is a great blazing sun, burning at its immense distance 
with inconceivable brightness and glory, probably surrounded 
by many worlds, whose millions of inhabitants are cheered by 
its rays. Now, as you all well know, every star which 
twinkles in the sky, and thousands of others, which the teles- 
cope alone brings to view, are probably thus surrounded by 
life, and intelligence, and happiness, in ten thousand forms. 
Stand now in a summer evening under the open sky, and 
with these views estimate as largely as you please, the extent 
of the creation. However widely you may in imagination ex- 
pand its boundaries, still it seems to human reason, that it 
must have a limit. Now go with me in imagination to that 
limit. Let us take our station at the remotest star, and look 
upon the one side into the regions which God has filled with 
intelligence and happiness ; and on the other side, into the 
far wider regions of gloomy darkness and solitude that lie 
beyond. Make the circle of the habitable universe as large 
as you will — how much more extensive, according to any 
ideas of space which we can form, must be the dreary waste 
beyond ! The regions which God has filled by his effort* 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 119 

Third difficulty. Existence of suffering. 

and plans, dwindle to a little fertile island in the midst of a 
boundless ocean. But why is this ? Who can explain or 
understand how a Being, boundless in power, and desirous 
of promoting the greatest possible amount of enjoyment, can 
leave so immense a portion unoccupied, and confine all his 
efforts to a region which, though immense to our conceptions, 
is, after all, but a little spot, — a mere point, compared with 
the boundless expanse around ? 

Now, I by no means believe that there is such an immense 
void as such reasoning would seem to prove that there must 
be. My object is to show, that in subjects like these, which, 
from their very nature, are beyond our grasp, we may reason 
plausibly, and only plunge ourselves into difficulties without 
end. Therefore on such subjects I distrust all reasoning. I 
never reason, except for the purpose of showing how utterly 
the subject is beyond our grasp ; and in regard to such questions, 
I have no opinion ; I believe nothing, and disbelieve nothing. 

Third difficulty. The existence of suffering. It seems to 
me that the human mind is utterly incapable of explaining 
how suffering can find its way into any world, w T hich is un- 
der the control of a benevolent and an omnipotent God. If 
he is benevolent, he will desire to avoid all suffering ; and if 
he is omnipotent, he will be able to do it. Now this reason- 
ing seems to be a perfect moral demonstration ; no person can 
reply to it. Some one may faintly say, that the suffering we 
witness, is the means of producing a higher general good 
and then I have only to ask, — But why could not an omnip- 
otent Being secure the higher good without the suffering ? 
And it is a question, which it seems to me, no man can an- 
swer. The only rational course which we can take, is to say, 
sincerely and cordially, we do not know. We are just com- 
mencing our existence, just beginning to think and to reason 
about our Creator's plans, and we must expect to find Hub 
dreds of subjects which we can not understand. 



120 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Fourth difficulty. Existence of suffering. The condemned pirat*. 

Fourth difficulty. Human accountability. Instead of 
calling this a difficulty, I ought to call it a cluster of difficul- 
ties ; for unanswerable questions may be raised without end, 
out of this subject. 

Look at yonder gloomy procession. In the cart there sits a 
man, who has been convicted of piracy and murder upon the 
high seas, and he is condemned to die. Now that man ivas 
taught from his youth to be a robber, and a murderer ; he 
was trained up to blood ; conscience did doubtless remon- 
strate ; there was a law written on his heart which con- 
demned him; but he was urged on by his companions, and 
perhaps by his very father, to stifle its voice. Had he been 
born, and brought up in a Christian land, by a kind Christian 
parent, and surrounded by the influences of the Bible, and 
the church, and the sabbath-school, he would undoubtedly 
never have committed the deed. Shall he then be executed 
for a crime which, had he been in our circumstances, he 
would not have committed ; and which his very judge, per- 
haps, would have been guilty of, had he been exposed to the 
temptations which overwhelmed the prisoner ? 

In a multitude of books on metaphysics, the following train 
of reasoning is presented. The human mind, as it comes 
from the hand of the Creator, is endued with certain suscep- 
tibilities, to be affected by external objects. For instance, an 
injury awakens resentment in every mind. The heart is so 
constituted, that when the youngest child receives an injury 
which it can understand, a feeling of resentment comes up in 
his breast. It need not have been so. We might unques- 
tionably have been so formed, that mere compassion for the 
guilt of the individual who had inflicted the injury, or a 
simple desire to remove the suffering, or any other feeling 
whatever, might rise. But God decided, when he formed 
our minds, that their tendencies should be as they are. 

Moreover, he has not only decided u*pon the constitutional 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 121 



Accountability. Foreknowledge 

tendencies of the mind, but he has arranged all the circum- 
stances to which each individual is to be exposed ; and these, 
so far as we can see, constitute the ivliole ivhich affects the 
formation of character — namely, the original tendencies of 
the soul, and the circumstances of life, by which they are de- 
veloped, or restrained. God holds, therefore, in his own hands, 
the whole control, in the formation of the character of every 
individual. 

This seems, at least to a great many minds, perfect demon- 
stration ; there is no evading it ; and it brings us at once to 
that greatest of all question? in physics or metaphysics, in the 
whole circle of human inquiry — a question which has caused 
more disputes, destroyed more Christian peace of mind, given 
rise to more vain systems formed by philosophical attempts to 
evade the difficulty, than almost any other question what- 
ever : How can man be accountable, ivhen God holds in his 
oivn hands such entire control in the formation of his char- 
acter ? 

I know that some among my readers will think that I 
make the difficulty greater than it is. They will think that 
they can see much to lighten it, and will perhaps deny some 
of my assumptions. Of such an one I would simply asit, 
were he before me — after having heard all he should have 
to say on the subject — " Can you, after all, honestly say that 
you understand, clearly understand, how man can be fully 
accountable, and yet his heart be as much under divine 
control as you suppose it is?" Every honest man will ac- 
knowledge that he is often, in his thoughts on this subject, 
lost in perplexity, and forced to admit the narrow limit of 
the human powers. 

But again. " No one denies that God foreknows perfectly 
every thing that happens. Now suppose a father were to 
say tc his child, " My son, you are going to a scene of temp- 
tation to-day. you will be exposed to some injury, and will 

F 



V22 



YOUNG CHRIS 11 AN. 



Story of father and son. 



be in danger of using some harsh and resentful words. Not* 
I wish you to he careful. Bear injury patiently, and do not 
use opprobrious language in return." 




THE FATHER'S COUNSELS. 



All this would he very well ; hut suppose that in addition 
the father were to say, " My son, I have contrived to ascer- 
tain ivhat you ivill say, and I have writen here upon this 
paper every word that you will utter to-day." 

" Every word that you think I shall speak, you mean," 
says the hoy. 

" No," says the father, " every word that you ivill speak ; 
hey are all written here exactly. I have by a certain mys- 
terious means ascertained them, and here they are. And it 
is absolutely certain that you will speak every thing which 
is written here, and not a syllable beside." 

Could any boy, after such a statement, go away believing 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 123 

God foreknows all things. Imaginary conversation with an infidel. 

what his father had said, and yet feeling that he himself 
could be, notwithstanding, free to act and speak that day as 
he pleased ?* 

Now God knows, as all w T ill acknowledge, every thing which 
will take place in the history of one of his creatures, jnst as 
certainly as if a minute record of it w T ere previously written. 
The mere fact of expressing it in language would make no 
difference. We may thus consider our future conduct to he 
as clearly known, and as certain, as if our histories w T ere 
minutely written ; and where is the man — with perhaps the 
exception of a few theologians, who have made metaphysical 
philosophy a study for years — who will not acknowledge that 
this truth, which nobody will deny, throws a little perplexity 
over his mind when he looks at that boundless moral freedom 
and entire accountability, which the Bible and human con- 
sciousness both attribute to man. 

Fifth difficulty. It is common to prove the existence of 
God from his works in the following manner : We see cre- 
ated objects ; they must have had a cause, for nothing can 
arise out of nothing. There must have been, therefore, 
some great first cause, which we call God. 

Xow this reasoning is very plausible ; but suppose the 
infidel to whom you present it should say, " But w T hat brought 
God into existence ?" 



* Let it be remembered that I am writing for the young, and am 
enumerating difficulties insuperable to them. A mind long accustomed 
to the accuracy of metaphysical inquiries will see that the antecedent 
certainty of any act proves only the greatness of the intellect which 
can foresee it, — it has nothing to do with the freedom of the moral 
agent by which it is performed. But if any one supposes that there 
Is no great difficulty for the young in this subject, let him try to con- 
vince an intelligent boy, that, under such circumstances as are above 
described, he could be free to speak gently or angrily, solely accord- 
ing to his own free will 



124 YOUISG CHRISTIAN. 

Sixth difficulty. Answering prayer. 

You answer, "He is uncaused" 

1 ' Very well," he replies, "then he came from nothing; 
so that it seems something can come from nothing.' ' 

"No," you reply, "he existed from eternity." 

"And /maintain," replies the Atheist, "that the world 
has existed uncaused from all eternity ; and why is not my 
supposition as good as yours? There are no more marks 
of design in the structure of this earth, than there are in 
the nicely balanced and adjusted powers and attributes of 
Jehovah." 

Now this does not shake my confidence in the being of a 
God. Notwithstanding the difficulty of reasoning with an 
infidel who is determined not to be convinced, the proofs 
from marks of design are conclusive to every unbiased mind . 
We know there is a God — every man knows there is ; 
though they who are resolved to break his laws, sometimes 
vainly seek shelter in a denial of his existence : like the fool- 
ish child who, when at midnight the thunder-storm rages in 
the skies, buries his face in his pillow, and fancies that he 
finds protection from the forked lightning by just shutting 
his eyes to its glare. No ; it only shakes my confidence in 
all abstract reasonings upon subjects which are beyond my 
grasp. 

Sixth difficulty. How can God really answer prayer 
without in fact miraculously interrupting the course of na 
ture ? That God does answer prayer by an exertion of his 
power in cases to which human influence does not reach, 
seems evident from the following passage : " The effectual 
fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. Elias was 
a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed 
earnestly that it might not rain, and it rained not on the 
earth by the space of three years and six months. And he 
prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth 
brought forth her fruit." James v. 16, 17, 18. Now if the 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 125 

Case supposed. The sick son. 

natural effect of prayer as an exercise of the heart were all, 
this illustration would be altogether inappropriate. It must 
teach that the prayers of men will have an influence ivith 
Jehovah, so that he shall order, differently from what he 
otherwise would do, events beyond human control. Now 
how can this in fact be done without a miracle ? A miracle 
is nothing more than an interruption of the ordinary course 
of nature. Now if the ordinary course of nature would in 
any case bring us what we ask, it is plain we do not owe it 
to God's answering prayer. If the regular course of nature 
would not bring it, then it seems that God can not grant the 
request without interrupting that course more or less ; — and 
this is a miracle. This reasoning appears simple enough, and 
it is difficult to see how the conclusion can be avoided. 

But to make the point plainer, let me suppose a case. A 
mother, whose son is sick in a foreign port, asks for prayers 
m a seaman's chapel, that he may be restored to health and 
returned in safety. The young man is perhaps ten thousand 
miles from home. The prayer can have no power to put in 
operation any earthly cause which can reach him. If it 
reaches him at all, it must be through the medium of the 
Creator. 

Now we are compelled to believe, if we believe the Bible, 
that the prayer will in all ordinary cases have an influence. 
The efficacy of prayer, in such cases as this, is so universally 
taught in the Bible, that we can not doubt it and yet retain 
that volume as our guide. But how can God answer this 
prayer without, in reality, interfering miraculously with the 
laws of nature ? If the young man would have recovered 
without it, then his restoration can not very honestly be said 
to be in answer to prayer. If he recovers, when, without the 
prayer, he would have died, then it seems very plain that 
God must interfere someivhere to interrupt what would have 
been the ordinary course of nature ; he must arrest super- 



126 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Miraculous interference in answering prayer. Sources of difficulty, 

naturally the progress of the disease, or give to medicine an 
efficacy which, without his special interference, it would not 
have possessed ; or suggest to his physician a course of treat- 
ment which the ordinary laws of thought would not have 
presented to his mind, either of which, according to every 
philosophical definition of the word, is a miracle. 

I might go on with such an enumeration to an indefinite 
length ; but I have, I hope, already brought up points 
enough ; and let my reader remember, that it is not neces- 
sary for my purpose, that he should admit that all these 
questions are beyond the grasp of his mind. It is enough for 
my present object, that each one will admit that some of them 
are. One reader will say, perhaps, that he can understand 
the subject of God's answering prayer ; another will think 
there is no difficulty in regard to God's foreknowledge of 
human actions ; and thus every reader will perhaps find some 
one of these difficulties which he thinks he understands. But 
will not all acknowledge, that there are among them, some 
which he can not understand ? If so, he will cordially feel 
that there are subjects connected with important religious 
truth, which are beyond the grasp of the human mind, and 
this conviction, is what I have been endeavoring to establish. 

The real difficulties which I have brought to view in the 
preceding pages are few. They are only brought up again 
and again in different forms, that they might be more clearly 
seen. Eternal duration ; infinite space ; the nature of moral 
agency ; — these are the fountains of perplexity, from which, in 
various ways, I have drawn in this chapter. They are sub- 
jects which the human mind can not grasp, and they involve 
in difficulty every proposition, of which they form an element. 
You may remove the difficulty from one part of the ground 
to the other, you may conceal it by sophistry, you may ob- 
ecure it by declamation ; but, after all that you have done, it 
will remain a difficulty still, and the acute arid candid mind 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 127 

Algebra. The surd. Distinction between theoretical and practical, 

will see its true character through all the forms in which you 
may attempt to disguise it. The disputes, and the theorizing 
with which the theological world is filled on the subject of 
moral agency, for example, — the vain attempts to form some 
philosophical theory, which will explain the subject, are an- 
alogous to the labors of a school-boy, engaged in the impossi- 
ble attempt to solve an algebraic equation, containing one 
irrational term. He transposes the troublesome surd from 
one side to the other, — he multiplies and divides it, — he add? 
to it, and subtracts from it, — he tries involution and evolution 
upon it ; but, notwithstanding every metamorphosis, it re- 
mains a surd still ; and though he may have lost sight of it 
himself, by throwing it into some complicated multinomial 
expression, the practiced mathematician will see, by a glance 
of the eye, that an insuperable difficulty is there. 

So these great moral subjects contain intrinsic and insur 
mountable difficulties, which it is most philosophical to ac 
knowledge, not to deny or conceal. We ought to be willing 
to remain in a measure ignorant on such subjects, \l ive can 
only distinctly know our duty. It is indeed best in ordinary 
cases, to look into the subject, — to examine it carefully, so as 
to find where the difficulty is, and see what firm ground 
we have all around it ; and thus let the region of uncertainty 
and ignorance be circumscribed by a definite boundary. But 
when this is done, look calmly upon the surface of the deep, 
which you know you can not sound, and acknowledge the 
limit of your powers, with a humble and quiet spirit. 

In order to avoid that mental anxiety which the contem- 
plation of insurmountable difficulty is calculated to awaken, 
it is well to make a broad and constant distinction be- 
tween a theoretical and a practical question. The inquiry 
what duty is, is in every case a practical question. The 
principles upon which that duty is required, form often a 
mere question of theory into which it is of no importance that 



128 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Difficulties. Punishmont of the enemies of God. 

we should enter. Shall the Sabbath commence on Saturday 
evening", or on Sunday morning ? This is a practical diffi- 
culty. Your decision of it will affect your practice at once. 
Why did God appoint one day in seven, rather than one in 
six, or one in eight, for holy time ? That is just as plainly 
theoretical. Now almost every question relating to the rea 
sons which influence the Creator in his dealings with men — 
every one in regard to the essence of his character, the consti- 
tution of man, as a moral being, the ground of his obligations 
to God, and the principles by which the magnitude and the 
duration of future punishments are fixed — these are all theo- 
retical questions. If we believe the plain declarations of the 
Bible in regard to the facts on these subjects, those facts will 
indeed influence our conduct, but we may safely leave the 
theory to Him, upon whom rests the responsibility of ruling 
the worlds that he has made. 

Take for instance the question of future punishment. 
There is a great deal of speculation on what ought and 
what ought not to be done at last with impenitent sinners 
who continue in sin during their period of probation. But 
what reasonable man, who will reflect a moment, can 
imagine that any human mind can take in such a view of 
God's administration as to enable it really to gaasp this 
question ? What power can comprehend so fully the nature 
and the consequences of sin and punishment, — not for a few 
years only, hut forever ; and not upon a few minds only, but 
upon the universe, as to be able to form any opinion at all 
in regard to the course which the Supreme ought to take in 
the punishment of sin ? Why, the noisy, riotous tenants of 
a crowded jail-room are far more capable of discussing the 
principles of penal jurisprudence than we are of forriing 
any opinion, upon abstract grounds, of the proper extent md 
duration of future punishment. The jailer would say to his 
prisoners, if they remonstrated with him on the severity of 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 



129 



Scripture difficulties. 




P^ 



fm^M&Mj^ 



m 




PRISONERS. 



The jailer and prisoners. 

the sentence, " The 
law decides this ques 
tion ; we have nothing 
to do with it ; the law 

will be executed." And 
so, if a man should 
attempt to reason with 
me, to prove, on ab- 
stract grounds, that 
eternal or that limited 
punishment is the just 
one ; might I not say 
to him, " Sir, why do 
you perplex me with 
the question of the 
punishment of the ene- 
mies of God ? I have 

not that punishment to assign. God says that the wicked 
shall go into everlasting punishment. He has decided. 1 
can not stand on the eminence which he occupies, and 
see what led him to this decision. My only duty is to 
believe what he says, and to escape as swiftly as I can to 
the refuge from that storm/' 

Nine tenths of the difficulties which beset the paths of 
young Christians would be avoided by such a spirit as this — 
by our taking God's decisions as they stand, and spending our 
strength in perfomiing the practical duties which arise from 
them, — leaving the grounds of those decisions wholly with 
him. 

This principle may be applied in a multitude of cases in 

which Scripture declarations are a ground of doubt and 

difficulty to Christians. " Work out your own salvaticn 

with fear and trembling, for it is God that worketh in you 

both to will and to do of his good pleasure." So far as 

9% 



130 ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 

Comparative power of God and man in the human heart. 

this text is considered in its practical aspects, how plain 
and simple it is ; and yet how easy to lose ourselves in the 
theoretical speculations to which it may give rise. The 
duties it requires, are plain and simple. Make efforts your- 
self with patient fidelity, but feel at the same time a humble 
sense of your dependence upon God. The theory upon which 
these two duties are founded is lost in obscurity which the 
human mind can not penetrate. 

The words " work out," &c, seem to imply that the 
power necessary to change the heart rests with man, while 
the latter part of the verse, "for it is God," &c, seems to 
attribute it to God. How is this ? what degree of agency 
has man himself in the production of those holy feelings 
which the Bible represents as necessary to salvation, and 
what part devolves upon the Creator ? This is a question 
which, as has been already remarked, has come up in a 
thousand forms. It has been the foundation of many a 
captious cavil, as well as of many an honest doubt. If the 
Bible had taught us that man alone had power over his 
conduct, so as to be entirely independent of an overruling 
hand, we could understand it. Or if it had maintained 
that God reigned in the human heart, and controlled its 
emotions and feelings to such an extent as to free man from 
the responsibility, this too would be plain. But it takes 
neither of these grounds. In some passages it plainly 
teaches us that all the responsibility of human conduct 
rests upon the individual being who exhibits it. In other 
places we are informed that the great God is supreme in 
the moral as in the material world, and that he turns the 
hearts of men as surely and as easily as the rivers of water 
are turned. And these two truths, so perplexing to philoso- 
phy, are brought, by a moral daring for which the Bible is 
remarkable, directly side by side in the passage before us. 
There is no softening of language to obscure the distinctness 



DIFFICULTIES IX RELIGION. 131 



Difficulty theoretical. None in practice. 

of the difficulty ; there are no terms of limitation to bring it 
m within narrow bounds ; there is no interpretation to ex- 
plain, no qualifications to modify. But it stands fair and 
legible, and unalterable, upon the pages of the word of God, 
saying to us in language which we can not misunderstand — 
you must make active and earnest efforts yourselves in the 
pursuit of holiness — and you must still submit to the powei 
that rules in your heart, and look for assistance to God, who 
works in you to ivill and to do. 

It ought however to be said again and again, that the 
difficulty is not a practical, but a theoretical one. There 
is no difficulty in making the efforts required by the former 
part of the passage, and at the same time in feeling the 
dependence on God required in the latter. The difficulty is 
merely in understanding the principle upon which the two 
are founded. It seems to me that this is a very fundamental 
point. Persons seeking, or thinking that they are seeking to 
enter the kingdom of heaven, are often encumbered with 
these very difficulties. They can not understand the com- 
parative influence which God and man have over the human 
heart, and hence they remain at a stand, not knowing what 
to do. They forget that the difficulty, great as it is, is one of 
speculation, not of action, and therefore they ought not to 
waste a thought upon it. until at least they have made peace 
with God. Two separate duties are required. We can 
understand them well enough — and they are not inconsistent 
with each other. Exert yourself to the utmost in seeking 
solvation. "What difficulty is there in this ? Place all 
your liope of success in God. What difficulty is there in 
this ? And what difficulty is there in making exertions 
ourselves, and feeling reliance on God at the same time ? 
There is none. It has been done a thousand times. Thou- 
sands are doing it now. It can be. done by all. But we can 
not understand, it may be said, the principle n.pon which 



132 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Objects of this chapter. 1. Inquirers. 

those two duties are enjoined. True, we can not under- 
stand it. The theory is involved in darkness, in which any 
who choose may easily lose themselves. But the duties 
are plain. God has enjoined them, and, as dutiful children, 
they ought to feel that if he clearly explains to us what we 
are to do, he may properly conceal in many cases the reasons 
of his requirements. 

There are three or four very common evils, which, by 
taking up the subject of this chapter so formally, I have 
been wishing to remove. I will mention them. 

1 . The useless perplexity of religious inquirers. A young 
person, perhaps one of my readers, is almost persuaded to 
be a Christian. You reflect upon your lost condition as a 
sinner, and feel desolate and unhappy. You think of God's 
goodness to you, and are half inclined to come to him. In- 
stead, however, of thinking only of your duty, and spending 
all your strength in resisting temptation, and in commencing 
a life of practical piety, you immediately seize upon some 
theoretical difficulty connected with theology, and trouble your- 
self about that. Perhaps you can not understand how God 
influences the human heart, or how man can be accountable 
if the Holy Spirit alone can sanctify the soul. " How can I 
work out my own salvation," you say, " if it is God who work- 
eth in me to will and to do?" Or perhaps you perplex your 
head about the magnitude or duration of future punishment, 
or the number who will be saved, as though the administra- 
tion of Jehovah's government would come upon your shoul- 
ders if you became a Christian, and you must therefore 
understand thoroughly its principles before you incur such 
a responsibility. How absurd ! Can you not trust God 
to manage his own empire, at least until after you have 
come yourself fully over to his side ? 

Suppose a child were to show a disobedient and rebellions 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 133 

Disobedient school-boy. Present duty neglected. 

epirit in school, and on being called upon by his teacher to 
reform, should, after pausing a moment, begin to say, " I 
ought to conduct differently, I know, and I think seriously of 
returning to my duty. But there are some things about it 
which I do not understand." 

" What things ?" says the teacher. 

"Why," says the boy, "I do not see what I should do 
if you and my father were to command me to do opposite 
things. I do not clearly understand whom I ought to obey." 

"Do you not know," replies the teacher, "that you now 
disobey me in cases where your father and myself both wish 
you to obey ? Come and do your duty in these. You have 
nothing to do with such a question as you mention. Come 
and do your duty." 

"But," says the boy, "there is another great difficulty, 
which I never could understand. Suppose my father or you 
should command me to do something wrong ; then I should 
be bound to obey my father, and also bound not to do what 
is wrong. "Now I can not understand what I ought to do in 
such a case." 

Thus he goes on. Instead of returning immediately to 
the right path, becoming a dutiful son and a docile pupil at 
once in the thousand plain cases which are every day occur- 
ring, he looks every way in search of difficulties with which 
he hopes to perplex his teacher and excuse his neglect of 
duty. 

Speculating inquirer, are you not doing the same thing ? 
When it is most plainly your duty to love God, and to begin 
to serve him at once in the thousand plain instances which 
daily occur, — instead of doing this with all your heart, trust- 
ing in God that he will do right, — do you not search through 
the whole administration of his government for fancied diffi- 
culties, in order to make of them excuses for your neglect of 
duty? With these difficulties you embarrass yourself, and 



134 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



% Perplexities of Christians. Way to avoid thenu 

strive to perplex your minister, or your Sabbath-school 
teacher, or your parent, and thus find a momentary respite 
from the reproaches of a wounded spirit by carrying the war 
away from your own conscience, which is the proper field, 
into your pastor's or your parent's intellect. While the 
argument is going on here, your sense of guilt subsides, con- 
science is seared, and you fall back to coldness and hardness 
of heart. Now why will you thus waste your time and your 
moral strength on questions in regard to which you have no 
responsibility, instead of walking in the plain path of duty, 
which lies open before you ? 

2. Useless perplexities of Christians. In bringing up to 
view so plainly the insuperable difficulties connected with 
religious truth, I have been hoping to divert the minds of 
experienced Christians from being perplexed and embarrassed 
by them. Once make up your mind, fully and cordially, 
that there are depths which the sounding line of your intel- 
lect will not fathom, and you will repose in the conviction 
that you do not and can not now know, with a peace of mind 
which you can not in any other way secure. How many 
persons perplex themselves again and again, and go on per- 
plexing themselves all through life, in fruitless endeavors to 
understand thoroughly the precise and exact relation which 
Jesus Christ bears to the Father. The Bible gives us, clear- 
ly, and in simple and definite language, all about the Savior 
which it is of practical importance for us to know. The 
Word was God, and the Word became flesh, or man. Now 
just be willing to stop here. " But no," says some one who 
loves his Savior, and wishes to understand his character, " I 
want to have clear ideas on this subject ; I must know pre- 
cisely ivhat relation he sustained to the Father before he 
became man. Was he in all respects identical ? or was he 
a different being, or a different person ; and what is the 
difference between a person and a being ? When he be- 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 13& 

Plausible reasoning sometimes unsafe. Scholars in geometry. 

came man, I wish to know precisely how the two natures 
came together." 

You wish to know ; but how will you ascertain ? Does 
the Bible inform you ? It tells you that your Savior was 
God, and that he became man. If you rest upon the Bible, 
you must stop here. Will you trust to your own specula 
tions ? Will you build up inferences upon what the Bible 
states ; and think that if you are cautious in your reasoning, 
you can be safe in your conclusions ? You can not be safe 
in your conclusions in such a case. No mind can be trusted 
for a moment to draw conclusions even from well-established 
premises, on a subject which it does not fully grasp. 

If you doubt this, just make the following experiment. 
Undertake to teach the elements of geometry to a class of 
intelligent young people ; and as they go on from truth to 
truth, lead them into conversation, induce them to apply the 
active energies of their minds to the subject, in reasoning, 
themselves, from the truths which their text-book explains, 
and you will soon be convinced how far the human mind 
can be trusted in its inferences on a subject which is beyond 
its grasp. Your pupils will bring you apparent contradic- 
tions, arising, as they think they can show, from the truths 
established ; and will demonstrate, most satisfactorily to 
themselves, the most absurd propositions. In one case, an 
intelligent scholar in a class in college attempted to demon- 
strate the absurdity of the famous forty-seventh proposition. 
He drew his diagram, and wrote out his demonstration, and 
showed it to his class ; and it was long before any of them 
could detect the fallacy. The mathematical reader will 
understand this, and all may understand, that, in this case, 
the pupil made out a chain of reasoning perfectly satisfactory 
to his own mind, which however led to absurdity and false- 
hood. 

You say, perhaps, " Well, this was because he had just 



136 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Drawing inferences. Story of the knights and the status. 

commenced the study ; he knew scarcely any thing about it. 
Such mistakes would only be made by the merest beginners." 

That is exactly what I wish you to say ; and to admit the 
same thing in regard to ourselves, as students of religious 
truth. We are mere beginners ; we know almost nothing 
of such subjects as God, eternity, and the constitution of 
mind. The moment therefore we leave the plain proposi- 
tions of the Bible, which are all that are necessary for us to 
understand, and go to drawing inferences, we involve our- 
selves in absurdity and falsehood, no matter how directly and 
inevitably our inferences seem to follow. Whenever I hear 
a man attempting to prove, from the nature of the case, that 
the Word could not have been God, and afterward have 
become flesh, or that God can not reign in the heart, as the 
Bible declares that he does, and yet leave man free and 
accountable, I always think of the college sophomore endeav- 
oring by his own blundering reason to upset the demonstra- 
tion of Pythagoras. 

These subjects, which are too difficult in their very nature 
for our powers, are the source of very many of the unhappy 
controversies which agitate the church. The mind is not 
capable of grasping fully the whole truth. Each side seizes 
a part, and, building its own inferences upon these partial 
premises, they soon find that their own opinions come into 
collision with those of their neighbors. 

Moralists relate the following story, which very happily 
illustrates this species of controversy : In the days of knight- 
errantry, when individual adventurers rode about the world, 
seeking employment in their profession, which was that of 
the sword, two strong and warlike knights, coming from 
opposite directions, met each other at a place where a statue 
was erected. On the arm of the statue was a shield, one 
side of which was of iron, the other of brass, and as our two 
heroes reined up their steeds, the statue was upon the side 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION 137 



The shield of brass and iron. One kind of controversy. 

of the road between them, in such a manner that the shield 
presented its surface of brass to the one, and of iron to the 
other. They immediately fell into conversation in regard 
to the structure before them, when one, incidentally alluding 
to the iron shield, the other corrected him by remarking 
that it was of b?'ass. The knight upon the iron side of course 
did not receive the correction : he maintained that he, him- 
self, was right ; and, after carrying on the controversy for a 
short time by harsh language, the disputants gradually grew 
angry, and soon drew their swords. A long and furious 
combat ensued ; and when at last both were exhausted, un- 
horsed, and lying wounded upon the ground, they found 
that the whole cause of their trouble was, that they could 
not see both sides of a shield at a time. 

Now religious truth is sometimes such a shield, with va- 
rious aspects, and the human mind can not clearly see all at 
a time. Two Christian knights, clad in strong armor, come 
up to some such subject as moral agency, and view it from 
opposite stations. One looks at the power which man has 
over his heart, and, laying his foundation there, he builds up 
his theory upon that alone. Another looks upon the divine 
power in the human heart, and, laying his own separate 
foundation, builds up his theory. The human mind is in- 
capable, in fact, of grasping the subject — of understanding 
how man can be free and accountable, and yet be so much 
under the control of God as the Bible represents. Our Chris- 
tian soldiers, however, do not consider this. Each takes his 
own view, and carries it out so far as to interfere with that 
of the other. They converse about it — they talk more and 
more warmly — then a long controversy ensues, and if they have 
influence over others, their dispute agitates the church, and 
divides brethren from brethren. And why ? Why, just be- 
cause our Creator has so formed us, that we can not, from 
one point of view, see both sides of the shield at the same 



138 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



3. Difliculties of children. Children's questions 

time. The combatants, after a long battle, are both un- 
horsed and wounded ; their usefulness, and their Christian 
character, is injured or destroyed. 

Now what is the true course for us to take in regard to 
such a subject ? Simply this. Look at our dependence on 
God for a change of heart, and for the exercise of right feel- 
ing, just as the Bible presents this subject, and go cordially 
and fully, just as far as the Bible goes, which is a great way. 
Fix in your heart that feeling of dependence and humility, 
which this view is calculated to give. Then look at the 
other aspect of this subject, the active power of man, and go 
here, just as far as the Bible goes, and carefully learn the 
lesson of diligence which it teaches. Suppose you can not 
find where the two come together, be willing to remain igno- 
rant of a theory which God has not revealed. 

3. Difficulties of children. I have discussed this subject 
too with direct reference to children, for the sake of trying to 
guard you against two faults. One is, that of coming to your 
parents or teachers with questions, and expecting that they 
can in all cases give a satisfactory answer. They can not. 
They do not know. The wisest parent, the highest intellect, 
is incapable of answering the questions which the youngest 
child can ask in regard to the truths of Christianity. Do 
not expect it then. You may ask questions freely, but when 
the answers are not perfectly satisfactory to you, consider the 
subject as beyond the grasp of your present powers. Be 
satisfied, if you can understand the principles of duty, and 
spend your moral strength in endeavoring to be as faithful 
as possible there. 

There is one other suggestion which I wish to make to 
you. When you carry questions or difficulties of any kind to 
your parents or teachers, be very careful to be actuated by a 
sincere desire to learn, instead of coming as young persons 
very often do, with a secret desire to display their own acute 



DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION, 139 

4. Difficulties of parents and teachers. The school-boy's question. 

ness and discrimination, in seeing the difficulty. How often 
have young persons brought questions to me, when it has been 
perfectly evident that their whole object was not to be taught, 
but to show me their own shrewdness and dexterity. They 
listen in such cases to what I say, not to be taught by it, but 
to think what they can reply to it, and bring objection upon 
objection, with a spirit which refuses to be satisfied. Be 
careful to avoid this. Ask for the sake of learning. Listen 
with a predisposition to be satisfied with the answer, and 
never enter into argument, and take your side, and dispute 
with your parent or your teacher, with a view to show your 
dexterity. If you have this spirit, and exercise it, an intelli- 
gent parent will always detect it. 

4. Difficulties of parents and teachers. This discussion 
is intended also as the means of helping parents and teachers, 
and older brothers and sisters, out of one of their most com- 
mon difficulties — I mean, that of answering questions brought 
to them by the young;. Learn to say, "I do not know." If 
you really will learn to say this frankly and openly, it wiJl 
help you out of a vast many troubles. 

You are a Sabbath-school teacher, I will imagine. A 
bright-looking boy, whose vanity has been fanned, perhaps, 
by flattery, says to you before his class, 

" There is one thing in the lesson that I do not understand. 
It says, God made the earth first, and afterward the sun. 
Now the sun stands still, and the earth and all the planets 
move round it. It seems to me, therefore, that he would 
have been more likely to have created the sun first, for that 
is the largest, and is in the middle, — and afterward the 
planets." 

As he says this, you see a half-smile of self-complacency 
upon his countenance, as he looks round upon his class-mates, 
to observe how they receive this astonishing display of youth- 
ful acumen. If now you attempt any explanation, he does 



140 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Pride in asking questions. Humble spir^. 

not follow you with any desire to have the difficulty re- 
moved. He either is absorbed in thinking how shrewdly he 
discovered and expressed the difficulty, or else, if he listens to 
your reply, it is to find something in it upon which he can 
hang a new question, or prolong the difficulty. He feels a 
sort of pride in not having his question easily answered. Ho 
can not be instructed, while in this state of mind. 

" What then would you say to a boy in such a case ?" you 
will ask. 

I would say this to him : " I do not understand that very 
well myself. I know nothing about the creation but what 
that chapter tells me. You can think about it, and perhaps 
some explanation will occur to you. In the mean time it is 
not very necessary for us to know. It is not necessary for 
you to understand exactly how God made the world, in or- 
der to enable you to be a good boy next week." 

Thus universally, a humble, docile spirit will disarm 
every theoretical difficulty of its power to perplex us, or to 
disturb our peace, 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 141 



Evidences of Christianity. The merchant. 



CHAPTER VII. 

EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" God who at sundry times and in divers manners, spake in timo past unto the 
fathers by the prophets, hath, in these last days, spoken unto us by his Son." 

The first inquiry which meets us in entering upon the con- 
sideration of this subject is, " "What sort of evidence of the 
truth of Christianity are we to expect?" The only proper 
answer is, that sort of evidence which men require to pro- 
duce conviction, and to control the conduct in other cases. 
The human mind is so constituted, that men are governed by 
a certain kind and degree of evidence in all the concerns of 
life — a kind and a degree which is adapted to the circum- 
stances in which we are placed here. This evidence, how- 
ever, almost always falls very far short of demonstration, or 
absolute certainty. Still it is enough to control the conduct. 
By the influence of it a man will embark in the most momen- 
tous enterprises, and he is often induced by it to abandon his 
most favorite plans. Still it is very far short of demonstra- 
tion, or absolute certainty. For example, a merchant re- 
ceives in his counting-room a newspaper which marks the 
prices of some species of goods at a foreign port as very high. 
He immediately determines to purchase a quantity of the 
goods, and to send a cargo there ; but suppose, as he is 
making arrangements for this purpose, his clerk should say 
to him, " Perhaps this information may not be correct. 
The correspondent of the editor may have made a false 



142 



\uUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The doubting clerk. 



Skepticism. 




SKEPTICISM. 



statement for some 
fraudulent purpose, or 
the communication 
may have been forged ; 
or some evil-minded 
person having the ar- 
ticle in question for 
sale, may have con- 
trived by stealth to 
alter the types, so as 
to cause the paper to 
make a false report, at 
least in some of the 
copies." 

Now in such a case, 
would the merchant 
be influenced in the 
slightest degree by such a skeptical spirit as this ? Would 
he attempt to reply to these suppositions, and to show 
that the channel of communication between the distant 
port and his own counting-room could not have been 
broken in upon by fraud somewhere in its course, so as to 
bring a false statement to him ? He could not show this. 
His only reply must be, if he should reply at all, " The 
evidence of this printed sheet is not perfect demonstration, 
but it is just such evidence in kind and degree as I act 
upon in all my business ; and it is enough. "Were I to 
pause with the spirit of your present objections, and refuse 
to act whenever such doubts as those you have presented 
might be entertained, I might close my business at once, 
and spend life in inaction. I could not, in one case in ten 
thousand, get the evidence which would satisfy such a 
spirit.' ' 

Again: you are a parent, I suppose ; you have a son 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 143 

The unexpected letter. The sick child. 

traveling at a distance from home, and you receive some 
day a letter from the post-office in a strange handwriting, 
and signed by a name that is entirely new, informing you 
that your son has been taken sick at one of the villages on 
his route, and that he is lying dangerously ill at the house 
of the writer, and has requested that his father might be 
informed of his condition and urged to come and see him 
before he dies. 

Where now is the father who in such a case would say 
to himself, " Stop, this may be a deception ; some one 
may have forged this letter to impose upon me. Before I 
take this journey I must write to some responsible man in 
that village to ascertain the facts." 

No ; instead of looking with suspicion upon the letter, 
scrutinizing it carefully to find marks of counterfeiting, he 
would not even read it a second time. As soon as he had 
caught a glimpse of its contents he would throw it hastily 
aside, and urging the arrangements for his departure to the 
utmost, he would hasten away, saying, " Let me go as soon 
as possible to my dying son." 

I will state one more case, though perhaps it is so 
evident, upon a moment's reflection, that men do not wait 
for perfect certainty in the evidence upon which they act, 
that I have already stated too many. 

Your child is sick, and as he lies tossing" in a burning 
fever on his bed, the physician comes in to visit him. He 
looks for a few minutes at the patient, examines the 
symptoms, and then hastily writes an almost illegible pre- 
scription, whose irrugular and abbreviated characters are 
entirely unintelligible to all but professional eyes. You 
give this prescription to a messenger — perhaps to some 
one whom you do not know — and he carries it to the 
apothecary, who, from the indiscriminate multitude of jars, 
And drawers, and boxes, filled with every powerful medi- 



i44 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Men act from reasonable evidence. 



cine, and corroding acid, and deadly poison, he selects a little 
here and a little there, with which, talking perhaps all the 
time to those around him, he compounds a remedy for your 
son. The messenger brings it to the sick chamber, and 
as he puts it into your hands, do you think of stopping to 
consider the possibility of a mistake ? How easily might 
the physician, by substituting one barbarous Latin name 
for another, or by making one little character too few or 
too many, have so altered the ingredients, or the propor- 
tions of the mixture, as to convert that which was intended 
to be a remedy, to an active and fatal poison. How easily 
might the apothecary, by using the wrong weight, or mis- 
taking one white powder for another precisely similar in 
appearance, or by giving your messenger the parcel intended 
for another customer, send you, not a remedy which would 
allay the fever and bring repose to the restless child, but an 
irritating stimulus, which should urge on to double fury the 
raging of the disease, or terminate it at once by sudden 
death. 

How possible are these things, but who stops to consider 
them ? How absurd would it be to consider them ! You 
administer the remedy with unhesitating confidence, and in 
a few days the returning health of your child shows that it 
is wise for you to act, even in cases of life and death, on 
reasonable evidence, without waiting for the absolute cer- 
tainty of moral demonstration. 

Now this is exactly the case with the subject of the 
Christian religion. It comes purporting to be a message 
from Heaven, and it brings with it just such a kind of evi- 
dence as men act upon in all their other concerns. The 
evidence is abundant ; at the same time, however, any one 
who dislikes the truths or the requirements of this Gospel, 
may easily, like the skeptical clerk in the case above men- 
tioned, make objections and difficulties innumerable. A man 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 145 

Evidences of Christianity, historical, internal, and experimental. 

may be an infidel if he pleases. There is no such irresistible 
weight of argument that the mind is absolutely forced to 
admit it, as it is to believe that two and three make five. 
In regard to this latter truth, such is the nature of the human 
mind, that there is not, and there can not be an individual 
who can doubt it. In regard to Christianity, however, as with 
all other truths of a moral nature which regulate the moral 
conduct of mankind, there is no such irresistible evidence. 
The light is clear, if a man is willing to see ; but it is not 
so vividly intense as to force itself through his eyelids, if he 
chooses to close them. Any one may walk in darkness if he 
will. 

The evidences of Christianity are usually considered as 
of two kinds, historical and internal. There may properly 
be added a third, which I shall call experimental. These 
three kinds are entirely distinct in their nature. 

1. If we look back upon the history of Christianity, we 
find it was introduced into the world under very remark- 
able circumstances. Miracles were performed, and future 
events foretold, in attestation of its divine origin, and the 
founder was restored to life after being crucified by his 
enemies. These, with the various circumstances con- 
nected with them, constitute the historical evidence of 
Christianity. 

2. If now we examine the book itself, its truths, its 
doctrines, its spirit, we find that it is exactly such in its 
nature and tendency as we should expect a message from 
Jehovah to such beings as we, would be. This ig the 
internal evidence. 

3 . And if we look upon the effects which the Bible produces 
all around us upon the guilt and misery of society, wherever 
it is faithfully and properly applied, we find it efficient for 
the purposes for which it was sent. It comes to cure the 

G 



146 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Illustration. The phosphorus. 

diseases of sin — and it docs, cure them. It is intended to lead 
men to abandon vice and crime, and to bring them to God — 
and it does bring them by hundreds and thousands. If we 
make the experiment with it, we find that it succeeds in 
accomplishing its objects. This we may call the experimental 
evidence. 

These three kinds of evidence are so entirely distinct in 
their nature, that they apply to other subjects. You have 
a substance which you suppose is phosphorus. For what 
reason ? Why, in the first place, a boy in whom you place 
confidence brought it to you from the chemist's, who said 
it was phosphorus. This is the historical evidence ; it 
relates to the history of the article before it came into your 
possession. In the second place, you examine it, and it 
looks like phosphorus. Its color, consistence, and form 
all agree. This is internal evidence : it results from inter- 
nal examination. In the third place, you try it. It burns 
with a most bright and vivid flame. This last may be 
called experimental evidence ; and it ought to be noticed 
that this last is the best of the three. No matter what 
grounds of doubt and hesitation there may be in regard to 
the first and second kinds of evidence, if the article simply 
proves its properties on trial. If any one should say to 
you, " I have some reason to suspect that your messengei 
was not honest; he may have brought something else;'' 
or " This does not look exactly like real phosphorus ; it is 
too dark or too hard ;" your reply would be, " Sir, there 
can be no possible doubt of it. Just see how it burns !" 

Just so with the evidences of Christianity. It is interest- 
ing to look into the historical evidences proving that it is a 
revelation from Heaven, and to contemplate also the internal 
indications of its origin ; but after all, the great evidence on 
which it is best for Christians, especially young Christians, 
to rely, for the divine authority of the Bible, is its present 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 147 

Historical evidence. The seal. Miracles. 



universal and irresistible power in changing character, and 
saving human souls from suffering and sin. 



I. HISTORICAL EVIDENCE. 

If the Creator should intend to send a communication of 
his will to his creatures, we might have supposed that he 
would, at the time of his making it, accompany the revela- 
tion with something or other which should be a proof that it 
really came from him. Monarchs have always had some 
way of authenticating their communications with their sub- 
jects, or with distant officers. This is the origin of the use 
of seals. The monarch at home possesses a seal of a peculiar 
character. When he sends any communication to a distance, 
he impresses this seal upon the wax connected with the 
parchment upon which the letter is w T ritten. This gives it 
authority. As no one else possesses such a seal, it is plain 
that no one can give the impression of it, and a seal of this 
kind is very difficult to be counterfeited. Various other 
devices have been resorted to by persons in authority to 
authenticate their communications. 

In the same manner we must have expected that Jehovah, 
in sending a message to men, would have some way of con- 
vincing them that it really comes from him. There are so 
many bad men in the world who are willing to deceive man- 
kind, that we could not possibly know, when a pretended 
revelation should come to us, whether it was really a revela- 
tion from heaven or a design of wicked men, unless God 
should set some marks upon it, or accompany it with some 
indications which bad men could not imitate. 

The Christian revelation professes to have been thus au 
thenticated by the power of working miracles and foretelling 
future events, possessed by those who brought the various 
messages which it contains. It is plain that man, without 



148 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Miracles. Examining witnesses. The court. 



divine assistance, could have had no such power. If this 
power then really accompanied those who were the instru- 
ments of introducing the Christian religion into the world, 
we may safely conclude that it was given them "by God, and 
as he would never confer such a power to sanction imposture, 
the message brought must be from him. 

The way then to ascertain whether these miracles were 
actually performed, is like that of ascertaining all other mat- 
ters of fact, by calling upon those who witnessed them for 
their testimony. 

The manner in which these witnesses are to be examined, 
is similar to that pursued in ordinary courts of justice. It is 
similar, I mean, in its principles, not in its forms. I know 
of nothing which shows more convincingly -the satisfactory 
nature of this evidence, than a comparison of it with that 
usually relied on in courts of justice. In order to exhibit the 
former then distinctly, I shall minutely describe the course 
pursued, and, to make my description more definite, I shall 
select a particular case. 

I w r as once walking in the streets of a large city, in which 
I was a stranger, looking around for some striking exhibitions 
of human character or efforts, when I saw several persons, 
of apparently low rank in life, standing before the door of 
what seemed to be some public building. I thought it was 
probably a court-house, and that these were the men who 
had been called as witnesses, and that they were waiting for 
their turn to testify. As courts are always open to the pub- 
lic, I concluded to go in and hear some of the causes. I 
walked up the steps and entered a spacious hall, and at the 
foot of a flight of stairs saw a little painted sign, saying that 
the court-room was above. I passed up and pushed open 
the light baize door, which admitted me to the room itself. 

At the end at which I entered there were two rows of 
seats, one row on each side of an aisle which led up through 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



H9 



The court-room. 



the center. These seats seemed to be designed for specta- 
tors ; for those on one side were nearly filled with women, 
and those on the other by men. I advanced up the aisle 
until I nearly reached the center of the room, and then 
took my seat among the spectators, where I could distinctly 
hear and see all that passed. Before me, at the farther end 
of the room, sat the judge, behind a sort of desk placed on an 
elevated platform, and in front of him was another desk, 
lower, which was occupied by the clerk, whose business it 
was to make a record of all the causes that were tried. 
There was an area in front of the judge, in which were seats 
for the various lawyers ; and in boxes at the sides were seats 
for the jury, who w r ere to hear the evidence, and decide what 
facts were proved. On one side of the room was a door 
made of iron grating, with sharp points upon the top, which 
led, I supposed, to an apartment where the prisoners were kept 




THE COURT- 



150 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The prisoner. His accusation arid trial. 

Not long after I had taken my seat, the clerk said that 
the next cause was the trial of a prisoner for house-breaking-. 
The judge commanded an officer to bring the accused into 
court. The officer went to the iron door which I have 
described, unlocked it, and brought out of the room into 
which it opened, a prisoner ; he looked guilty and ashamed 
and his face was pale — though the paleness was apparently 
not that of fear, but such as is caused by the debility and 
disease resulting from a life of dissipation and vice. The 
officer brought him into the middle of the room, and placed 
him in a small inclosure near the center of the room, and 
shut him in. He leaned against the railing in front, looked 
at the judge, and began to listen to his trial. 

The clerk read the accusation. It was, that he had 
broken open an unoccupied house once or twice, and taken 
from it articles belonging to the owner of the house. The 
judge asked him if he pleaded guilty or not guilty. He said, 
not guilty. The judge then, asked the jury at the side to 
listen to the evidence, so that they might v be prepared to 
decide whether this man did break open the house or not. 

Men, not accustomed to speak in public assemblies, could 
not easily give their testimony in such a case, so that it 
w T ould be fully understood on all the important points. In 
fact, very few know fully what the important points are. 
Hence it is proper that there should be lawyers present, who 
can ask questions, and thus examine the witnesses in such a 
manner as to bring out fully all the facts in the case. There 
is one lawyer appointed by the government, whose business 
it is to bring to view all the facts which indicate the prison- 
er's guilt ; and another appointed by the prisoner, who takes 
care that nothing is omitted or lost sight of which tends to 
show his innocence. When the prisoner has not appointed 
any counsel, the judge appoints some one for him. This was 
done in the case before us 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 151 

Testimony of the owner. Testimony of the watchman. Lawyer's question. 

The first witness called was the owner of the house. It 
is necessary that each witness should he a man of good char- 
acter, and that he should testify only to what he saw or 
heard. No one is permitted to tell what some one else told 
him ; for stories are very likely to be altered in repetition ; 
so that, even in a complicated case, each man goes only so 
far as his own personal knoivledge extends. And, in order 
to be sure that the jury shall have his own story, he is 
obliged to come personally into court, and tell the story in 
presence of all. The owner of this house was probably a 
man of business ; and a great deal of valuable time would 
have been saved, if he had been permitted to write down his 
account, and send it in. But no ; every witness, where it is 
possible, must actually come into court, and present his evi- 
dence with his own voice. This remark it is important to 
remember, as the principle will come into view, when we 
consider the other case. 

The witness testified, that he owned a certain house ; that 
he moved out of it, and locked it up, leaving some articles in 
an upper chamber ; that one day he went in, and found that 
the house had been entered, I believe by a window, and that 
the chamber-door had been broken open, and some of the 
articles taken away. He said that he then employed a 
watchman to sleep in the house, and to endeavor to catch 
the thief. 

Here this witness was obliged to stop ; for, although he 
knew how the watchman succeeded, he was not permitted to 
state what he knew, for he did not see it. No man testifies 
except, to what he has seen or heard. 

The watchman was next called. The lawyer for the gov- 
ernment asked him, 

"Were you employed by the owner of this house to watch 
for a thief in it?" 

"Yes, sir." 



152 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Watchman's story. The prisoner convicted. 

" What did he say to you, when he engaged you ?" 

11 He told me that his house had been broken open, and he 
wished me to watch for the thief." 

" Did you do it ?" 

" Yes, sir." 

11 Well, relate to the jury what occurred that night." 

" I watched several nights. For some nights nothing oc- 
curred. All was quiet till morning." 

11 In what room did you stay ?" 

" In the room under the chamber from which the articles 
had been stolen." 

" Well, go on with your account." 

" At last, on the 15th of June, as I was then watching, 
about three o'clock in the morning I heard a noise. Some 
one was coming softly up stairs. He went up into the room 
over my head, and after remaining a few minutes there, he 
began to come down. I immediately went out into the en- 
try, and seized him, and took him to the watch-house. The 
next morning he was put in prison." 

The lawyer then pointed to the prisoner at the bar, and 
asked if that was the man. The witness said that it was. 

The judge then asked the counsel for the prisoner, if he 
wished to ask any questions. He replied that he did, and he 
immediately proceeded to question the witnesses very mi 
nutely in respect to the whole transaction. He, however, 
elicited nothing favorable to the prisoner. The jury finally 
consulted together, and all agreed that the prisoner was proved 
guilty ; and the judge ordered him to be sent back to the 
prison, till he should determine what punishment must be 
assigned. 

This is substantially the way in which all trials are con- 
ducted. Three or four points are considered very necessary. 
1. That the witnesses should be of good character. 2. That 
they should have actually witnessed what they describe. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 153 

Points secured on trial. Three points to be attendod to. 

And, 3. That the precise account which they themselves 
give, should come into court. These points the judge or the 
lawyers secure. The latter they obtain by having the wit- 
ness himself always come, if it is possible, even if he has to 
leave most important business for this purpose. If from 
sickness, or any other similar cause, he can not come, his 
testimony is, in some cases, taken down in writing, and 
signed by himself, and that paper, the very one which he 
signed, must be brought into court, and read there. This 
is called a deposition. The second point is secured by not 
allowing any man to go any farther in his testimony than he 
himself saw or heard. So that sometimes, when the case is 
complicated, a very large number of witnesses are called, be- 
fore the whole case is presented to the jury. The first point 
they secure, by inquiring into the character of the witnesses. 
If any man can be proved to be unworthy of credit, his testi 
mony is set aside. 

Now all these points must be looked at in examining the 
evidence of the Christian miracles. I alter the arrangement 
of them, however, in the following discussion, placing them now 
in the order in which it is most convenient to consider them. 

In examining the evidence relating to the Christian mira- 
c]es then, we must ascertain, 

1. That we have the actual account given by the original 
testifiers themselves. 

2. That these testifiers were actual witnesses of the facts 
to which they give testimony, 

3. That these witnesses are credible ; that is, that they 
are honest men, and that their word can be relied upon. 

These three points I shall examine in order, in reference tc 
the Christian miracles. The witnesses are the four evangel 
ists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John ; and the first inquiry, ac- 
cording to the list above presented, is to determine whether 
we have exactly the account which they themselves give. 



154 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Irruption of the barbarians. Dark ages. 

Witnesses are commonly called into court to tell their own 
story, and then there can be no mistake. If that is impossi- 
ble, as I remarked above, their deposition is taken, with cer- 
tain forms, and the very paper which they originally signed 
is brought and read in court. But neither of these courses 
can be taken here. For, in the first place, the witnesses 
have been for a long time dead, so that they can not come 
forward to give their testimony ; and although they wrote, at 
the time, a full account of the events which occurred, so long 
a period has since elapsed that none of the original manu 
scripts now remain. Time has long since destroyed all ves- 
tiges of the writings of those ancient days. 

I presume that most of my readers are aware that not long 
after the time of our Savior, barbarians from the north, in in- 
numerable hordes, began to pour down upon the Roman em- 
pire, until at last they subverted and destroyed it. Very 
many of these barbarians became nominal Christians, and 
preserved some copies of the Bible, and in fact, they saved 
many extensive and valuable libraries, consisting of course, of 
manuscript works, in the form generally of parchment rolls, 
the art of printing not being then known. They however sub- 
verted most of the institutions, and destroyed the accumulated 
property of civilized life, and brought a long period of igno- 
rance and semi-barbarism, called the dark ages, upon the 
world. After some time, however, there began to appear in 
various parts of Europe signs of a gradual improvement. The 
monks in the various convents, having no other employment, 
began to explore the old libraries, and to study the books. 
They made themselves acquainted with the languages in 
which they were written, and when the art of printing waa 
invented, they published them. In consequence, however, of 
the immense number of manuscripts collected in some of the 
libraries, a long time elapsed before they were fully explored, 
and even now the work is not absolutely completed. New 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 155 

Old manuscripts. Genuineness of the Scriptures. 

writings are occasionally brought to light, and published, 
The difficulty of deciphering such old, worn-out, faded, and 
almost illegible parchment rolls, is very great. 

A great deal of interest was felt at the very first by these 
explorers, to find the oldest copies of the Bible, or of any 
parts of the Bible. They wished to have the most accurate 
and authentic copy possible ; and the more ancient the copy, 
the more probable it was that it was taken directly from the 
original, and consequently the more it was to be depended 
upon. If they could have found a manuscript which was 
evidently the very copy originally written by the author him- 
self, it would have been considered invaluable. 

The number of manuscripts of the whole or of parts of the 
Hebrew Bible, thus found, and now preserved in various 
libraries of Europe, is more than four hundred ; and of the 
Greek Testament, not far from one hundred and fifty. They 
are scattered all over Europe, and are preserved in the libra 
ries with great care. The oldest of them however was writ- 
ten several hundred years after the death of Christ, so that 
we now can not ever have the manuscripts actually written 
by the original witnesses. The two methods usually relied 
on therefore in courts of justice, for being sure that the actual 
story of the witness himself is presented in court, fail in this 
case. We must resort therefore to another method equally 
certain, but different in form. 

The evidence relied upon to prove that the books we have 
now, or rather the ancient manuscripts in the libraries in 
Europe from which they are translated, are really the same 
with the accounts originally written by the witnesses them- 
selves, is this : Immediately after they were written, a great 
many other Christian writers, very much interested in these 
accounts, began to quote them in their own letters and books. 
They quoted them much more copiously than it is customary 
to quote now, because the art of printing puts, every import- 



156 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Quotations. Illustration. 

ant book within the reach of all who are interested in it. 
Then the original accounts existed only in manuscript, and 
consequently could be seen and read only by a few. These 
few therefore in their writings made frequent and copious 
extracts from them ; and these extracts have come down to 
us separately, and each one proves that the passage that it 
contains, which is in the account now, was in that account 
when the quotation was made. 

An imaginary instance will make this plain. The Vati- 
can manuscript, as it is called, that is, a very ancient manu- 
script preserved in the library of the Vatican at Rome, is 
supposed to have been written about four hundred years after 
Christ. It contains, we will suppose, John's Gospel, just as 
we have it now in our Bibles. This proves, that if the real 
original account which John gave was altered at all after 
he wrote it, it was altered before the time in which that 
manuscript was made. Now suppose a Christian at Antioch, 
living two hundred years before the Vatican manuscript 
was written, had been writing a book, and in it had men- 
tioned John's Gospel, and had copied out a whole chapter 
This book he leaves at Antioch : it is copied there again and 
again, and some copies are found there at the revival of 
learning after the dark ages. Here we have one chapter 
proved to have been in John's account two hundred years 
earlier than the date of the Vatican manuscript. In the 
same manner another chapter might have been quoted in 
another book kept at Alexandria, and others in other works, 
preserved in various other libraries. Now the fact is, that 
the quotations of this character which are found in ancient 
writings are so numerous and so extensive as to form an 
uninterrupted succession of evidences, beginning but a very 
short time after the original accounts were written, and 
coming down to modern times. Every chapter and verse 
of the original accounts are not indeed confirmed in this way, 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 157 



Use made of quotations. Palev's evidences, 

but every thing in the least degree important is. All the 
material facts, and every particular in regard to which there 
could he any necessity for this evidence, are furnished with 
it. Learned men have taken a great deal of pains to explore 
and collect this mass of evidence in favor of the genuineness 
of the sacred hooks. The quotations have been most care- 
fully examined and republished ; so that all who are inclined 
to go into an examination of them can easily do so. Dr. 
Paley, in his evidences of Christianity, has presented enough 
to satisfy any mind of sufficient attainment to appreciate 
such an argument. 

I say, of sufficient attainment, for it requires not a little 
There are very few, excepting professed scholars, who can 
have time to go fully enough into an examination of this 
subject to form an independent judgment in respect to it. I 
have not attempted in the above remarks to present you with 
the argument itself, but only to explain the nature of it. As 
I remarked before, I do not think that the historical argu- 
ment is calculated to come with so much force to the minds 
of Christians generally, as one of another kind, which I shall 
presently exhibit. All, however, may easily understand the 
nature of the ground on which it stands. 

We may consider, then, the fact that these almost innu- 
merable quotations from the writers of the New Testament, 
and translations from them, forming a series which com- 
menced soon after the writings first appeared, and contmuing 
hi uninterrupted succession down to the present time, as 
abundant evidence that the story which ice now have, is the 
story originally given by the witnesses themselves. This 
evidence does satisfy all who fully examine it. And this is 
the first point in the investigation 

But the question will arise in the minds of many of my 
readers, why is it necessary to prove so fully and formally 
such a point as this ? Why is it necessary to show so care- 



158 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Necessity for proving the genuineness of the Scriptures. 

fully that these are precisely, in all important respects, tha 
very accounts originally written by the witnesses themselves ? 
The answer is this. Unless this point were very carefully and 
fully proved, we might have supposed that the prevailing 
belief of the truth of the Christian miracles, and the general 
circulation of our present books, might have arisen in this 
way ; suppose that, eighteen hundred years ago, a good man, 
named Jesus Christ, had been dissatisfied with the prevailing 
errors and superstitions, and had taught a purer system of 
religious and moral duty than before prevailed. His follow- 
ers become strongly attached to him. They repeat to one 
another his instructions, follow him from place to place, and 
soon attract the attention of the authorities of the country. 
Like Socrates, he is persecuted by his enemies, and put to 
death. After his death, his disciples' make greater and 
greater efforts to promote his principles. They relate, with 
some exaggeration, the incidents of his life. His benevolence 
and kindness to the sick and to the afflicted is gradually, as 
the stories are repeated again and again, magnified to the 
exertion of miraculous power. One extraordinary narrative 
after another gradually gains credit and circulation. No one 
intends to deceive, but, according to the universal tendency 
in such cases, even where stories that strongly interest the 
feelings are circulated among good men, the accounts gradu- 
ally and insensibly assume a marvelous and miraculous air, 
and after a time, when years have elapsed, and no method 
of ascertaining the truth remains, these exaggerated and 
false stories are committed to writing, and these writings 
come down to us. This supposition might very plausibly 
have been made. But the evidence afforded by the series 
of quotations I have described cuts it off altogether. That 
long and uninterrupted series carries us irresistibly back to 
the very time when the events occurred. There' is no time 
left for exaggeration and misrepresentation. We prove that 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 159 

The original recor Is remain. Second point. 

the accounts which we now have were written on the spot 
— that they were in circulation, and exposed to rigid scrutiny 
at the very time in which the events themselves took place ; 
and we are thus compelled to believe that the original rec- 
ords, made at the time, have been preserved unaltered to 
the present day. 

"But does this," you will ask, " prove that the account? 
are true ?" Most certainly not. We have not yet attempt- 
ed to prove them true. We have not yet come to the ex- 
amination of the testimony itself at all. The original wit- 
nesses, if we admit that these accounts were written by 
them, may have been mistaken, or they may have been false 
witnesses. We have said nothing yet on these points. The 
reader must bear in mind what is the precise point now up. 
It is simply to show that the accounts which we have now, 
whatever they may contain, are the very accounts which the 
ivitn esses themselves wrote. The depositions are properly 
authenticated ; not, indeed, by the common legal forms — 
seal and signature and witness — but by abundant evidence 
— and evidence of exactly the kind which is always most 
relied on, and entirely relied on, in all other cases, where the 
examination of very ancient documents come up. This point 
being thus settled, we are now prepared to proceed to the 
second point of the argument, which is : 

2. To ascertain whether the writers of the accounts which 
we have, were actual witnesses of the events which they 
describe. 

In regard to this point, the testimony of the witnesses 
themselves is to be taken. It is the usage in a court of 
justice to ask the witnesses upon the stand, with respect to 
the opportunities they enjoyed for certainly knowing that 
what they state is true, and to the circumstances, on the 
other hand, if there were any, which might have exposed 
them to the danger of mistake. In a word, the witnesses 



160 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Opportunities of knowing. House-breaker's trial. 

give their own account of the circumstances, favorable or 
otherwise, in which they were placed, as observers of the 
facts to which they testify, and this account is admitted and 
believed, like all other testimony, unless something appears 
which shows that the witnesses are not to be trusted, and 
then all their statements are to be abandoned together. 

I noticed in the trial above described, that the counsel 
for the prisoners was particular on this point. He asked 
the witness, after he had stated all the facts in respect to 
his detecting the man in the chamber, as follows : 

" But are you sure that that man," pointing to the 
prisoner, " is the man that you saw ?" 

" Yes, perfectly sure. I could not be mistaken, for I took 
him at once to the watch-house." 

This was decisive ; it proved that the witness had a 
most excellent opportunity to know what he described, 
and that there was no possibility of mistake. Suppose, 
however, that the thief had been active enough to have 
run down stairs and escaped, allowing the witness only a 
glimpse of his person, — and that the next day the witness 
had met a man in the street whom he supposed was the 
same, and had procured his arrest and trial, the jury would 
in this case have placed far less confidence in his testimony, 
even if they knew that he was a very honest man, and 
intended to tell the truth. The difficulty would have been 
the want of a full and unquestionable opportunity on the 
part of the witness, to know what the truth was. 

In the same manner, where there is any thing which 
might operate to produce delusion, a jury receives testimony 
with great hesitation. For example, suppose a witness 
should testify that he saw some supernatural appearance in 
going through a dark wood by night. Few would believe 
him, however honest a man he might be, on account of the 
great danger of being deceived in going through a scene full 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 161 

Sacred writers could not have been mistaken. 

of irregular objects, such as the varieties of vegetation, the 
broken rocks, the whitened trunks of decaying trees, — going 
through too at night, when all forms are vague and inde- 
terminate, and easily modified by the imaginatian or the 
fears. Again, an honest man, one in whose word I place 
great confidence, may tell me of a cure for rheumatism. 
He says that he has tested the remedy, and that it always 
produces a great effect. I receive his testimony with great 
doubt, because he can not probably know how much the 
benefit which he experienced was owing to the supposed 
remedy, and how much to other causes. If the same man 
should come home from Boston, and say that the State 
House was burnt — that he saw it all in flames — or state 
any other extraordinary fact, far more extraordinary than the 
efficacy of a remedy for rheumatism, I should believe him, 
since these would be cases in which he would have had 
certain means of knowing that what he stated was really 
true. 

Now if we examine the miracles which our Savior 
performed, and the opportunity which the disciples had 
of witnessing them, we shall see that there could not have 
been a mistake. Remember, however, that I am not now 
saying that their story must be true. I am only here show- 
ing that the witnesses could not have been mistaken. They 
must have known whether what they were saying was true or 
not. The case could not be like that of a man relating a ghost 
story, — something which he thinks is true, but which is in 
reality not so. The things done, were done in open day. 
They were done in presence of multitudes ; and they were 
of such a nature that those who witnessed them could not 
be deceived ; healing what was called incurable diseases ; 
feeding multitudes with a small supply of food ; walking on 
the sea ; rising from the grave, after remaining upon the cross 
till even Roman soldiers were satisfied that life was gone ;— 



162 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Proc fs that Bacred writers could not have been mistaken. 

and who could be a better judge of death than a Reman 
soldier ? These, and a multitude of similar things, might be 
given as proofs that these witnesses could not be mistaken in 
what they described. They kneiv whether they ivere true or 
not. And consequently if the third point, that is their 
honesty, should be proved, we must believe what they say. 
If they had informed us only of afeiv miraculous events, and 
if these were seen but by a few people, or were of such a 
character as to render the witnesses peculiarly liable to be 
deceived in respect to them, we might have admitted their 
honesty, but denied the truth of their statements. As it is, 
however, we can not do this. 

Not only were the facts themselves of so open and 
public a character that there could not be any mistake 
about them, but the writers of our accounts were eye- 
witnesses of them. They did not obtain a knowledge of 
them by hearsay or report ; they wrote what they themselves 
saiv and heard. It is noticeable that they themselves 
placed peculiar stress upon this circumstance. Luke be- 
gins his gospel by saying, " It seemed good to me, having 
had perfect understanding of all things from the first, to 
write unto thee." John, at the close of his book, distinctly 
records the fact that the ivriter of the account was one of the 
principal actors in the scenes he describes ; Peter, in his 
defense of himself before the Jewish authorities, says he 
can not but speak the things he has seen and heard; and 
perhaps the most striking of all is, that when the apostles 
came together to elect one to take the place of Judas, they 
restricted themselves in their selection to those who had 
been, from the beginning, witnesses of the whole. " Where- 
fore," was the proposition, " of these men which have com- 
panied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and 
out among us, beginning from the baptism of John unto that 
game day that he was taken up from us, must one be ordained 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 163 

The/ were eye-witnesses. Third point. Their style of writing. 

to be a ivitncss with us of his resurrection." These men 
understood the laws of the human mind in regard to believing 
testimony. They knew well what was necessary to make 
out a case, and they secured it. 

We have now explained how the two first points in our 
chain of reasoning are established, and we may consider 
it as certain, in the first place, that though our witnesses 
are not living, and consequently can not present us their 
testimony in person, and although so long a time has 
elapsed, that their original writings are worn out and 
destroyed, yet that there is abundant evidence that we have 
the real account which they delivered ; and, in the second 
place, that they could not be mistaken in the facts to which 
they gave their testimony, as they were eye-witnesses of 
them, and the facts are of such a nature that there could 
be no delusion. There is no possible way now, after these 
two points are established, by which their testimony can be 
set aside, except by the supposition that they were impostors. 
This brings us to the third and last point of our argument, 
which is : 

3. We must have evidence that our witnesses are credible ; 
that is, that they are honest men, and that their word can be 
relied upon. 

The evidence on this point is, if. possible, more complete 
and more absolutely unquestionable than upon either of 
the others ; the honest and candid manner in which they 
relate their story is evidence ; it is plain, straightforward, 
and simple. Their writings have exactly the air and tone 
of men conscious that they are telling the truth, but aware 
that it will be regarded with very different feelings by their 
different readers. They narrate, frankly and fully, the events 
Vi which they or their companions were to blame ; and they 
do nothing more in regard to the guilt of their enemies. 
There are no palliating or extenuating statements or ex- 



161 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Impartiality. Barabbas chosen and Christ rejected. 

pressions on the one side, nor is there any disposition to applj 
epithets of odium or exaggeration upon the other. The story 
is simply told, and left to work its own way. 

How differently do men act in other cases ! How easily 
can we perceive upon which side the writer is, when he gives 
an account of circumstances relating to a contest between 
two individuals or two parties ! Open to any history of the 
battle of Waterloo, or of the campaign in Russia, and how 
long can you doubt whether the author is a friend or an 
enemy of Napoleon ? Now turn to St. John's account of 
the trial and crucifixion of the Savior — a most unparalleled 
scene of cruel suffering — and there is not a harsh epithet, and 
scarcely an expression of displeasure, on the part of the 
writer, from the beginning to the end of it ; you would 
scarcely know what was his opinion. Take, for instance, 
the account of the preference of Barabbas by the Jews. An- 
other writer would have said, "The Jews were so bent on 
the destruction of their innocent and helpless victim, that 
when Pilate proposed to release him, in accordance with their 
custom of having a prisoner annually set at liberty on the day 
of their great festival, they chose a base malefactor in his 
stead ; they preferred that a robber, justly condemned for his 
crimes, should be let loose upon society, rather than that the 
meek and lowly Jesus should again go forth to do good to 
all." But what does John say ? There is no attempt in his 
account to make a display of the guilt of the Jews — no 
effort to throw odium upon them — no exaggeration — no 
coloring. ' Will ye,' says Pilate, ' that I release unto you the 
King of the Jews ? Then cried they all again, saying — Not 
this man, but Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a robber. ' 

The whole account of our Savior's history, as comprised 
in the narratives of the four evangelists, is pervaded by this 
same spirit from the beginning to the end. In the midst of 
one of the greatest moral excitements which the world has 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 165 

Elevate* I views. They were disinterested. 

ever seen, and writing upon the very subject of that excite- 
ment, and themselves the very objects of it, these narrators 
exhibit a self-possession and a composure almost without a 
parallel. Exposed unceasingly to most extraordinary perse- 
cutions and sufferings, they never revile, or retort upon their 
oppressors. It is impossible to avoid the conclusion, when 
reading the chapters of the "New Testament, that the writers 
understood and felt the moral sublimity of the position they 
were occupying. They seemed to have been conscious that 
they were speaking, not to a few thousand cotemporaries in 
Judea, but to countless millions of human beings, scattered 
over the earth, or coming up, generation after generation, to 
read their story, to the end of time. They rise entirely above 
all the influences then pressing so strongly upon them, and in 
calm and fearless independence offer their testimony. They 
could not have done this — it is not in human nature to have 
done it — had they not been sustained by this consideration, 
viz. : They knew that they ivere speaking the truth on 
the most momentous subject ever presented to men, and that 
they were speaking it to the whole world. 

Another proof of their honesty is, that they were entirely 
disinterested ; or rather, they were interested to conceal the 
truth, not to tell it. Their testimony brought them nothing, 
and could bring them nothing, but reproach, and suffering, 
and death. They saw this in the history of the Savior, and 
he, instead of endeavoring to keep them unconscious of the 
sufferings that awaited them, plainly and frankly foretold 
all, just before he left them. He told them in the most 
affecting manner — the communication he made is recorded 
in the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the Gospel of St. 
John — all that should befall them. " You must not expect," 
said he, in substance, "to find the world more kind to you 
than it has been to me. They have persecuted me, and 
they will persecute you. They will put you out of the syna* 



166 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Our Savior's farewell. Interested witnesses, 

gogues, and whosoever killeth you will think he doeth 
God service. I tell you these things beforehand, so that 
when the time shall come, you will remember that I told 
you, and be comforted then. I wish you to understand the 
dangers and trials that await you. You must not, however, 
be dejected or discouraged because I have told you these 
things. It is necessary for me to go away, and it is neces- 
sary for you to encounter these evils. But it is only for a 
little time. The years will pass away swiftly, and when 
you have done your duty here, you shall come to me again, 
and find a perpetual home with me and my Father in a 
happier world." 

Such was the substance of this part of our Savior's fare- 
well address. His disciples listened to it in sadness, but 
they did not shrink from their duty. A very few hours after 
hearing these last words of their Master in their place of 
retirement, they found themselves gazing in terror, and at a 
distance, at that dreadful throng which was pouring out of 
the gates of Jerusalem to see their beloved Master struggling 
upon the cross. They were overwhelmed by this scene : but 
terror triumphed only for a time. Immediately after the 
Savior's ascension, we find them assembled, making calmly ; 
but with fixed determination, their arrangements for future 
efforts, and waiting for the command from above — one hun- 
dred and twenty in an upper chamber, planning a campaign 
against the world ! They knew, they must have known, 
that they themselves went forward to suffering and to death. 
They went forward, however. They told their story. They 
suffered and died. Must they not have been honest men ? 

The way in which men are interested is always to be 
looked at in judging of their testimony. If a juryman is in- 
terested in the result of a trial, he is set aside ; he 3an not 
judge impartially. If a witness is interested at all, his tes- 
timony is received with a great deal of caution, or else absc- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



167 



Battle of Lexington. 



lutely rejected. And whenever a case is of such a nature 
that all those who were witnesses of the facts are interested, 
on one side or on the other, it is extremely difficult to ascer- 
tain the truth. A very striking example of this is furnished 
by the circumstances of the battle of Lexington, at the com- 
mencement of the American Revolution. E ach of the parties, 
anticipating a struggle, and desirous of being prepared for it, 
had made efforts to get the arms and ammunition of the 
country as far as possible into their own hands ; and the 
British general in Boston, understanding that there was at 
Concord a supply of military stores, conceived the design of 
sending a party in the night to Concord to obtain it. ' He 
kept his design, or rather endeavored to keep it, secret. Late 
in the evening, the troops embarked in boats on the west side 
of the peninsula, on which Boston is built, and sailed across 
the cove to the main land 

This was done in 
silence, and it was 
hoped in secrecy. The 
Americans, however, 
by some means or other 
heard of the plan. The 
country was alarmed ; 
men rode on horse- 
back at midnight from 
town to town, rinofino; 
the bells and calling 
out the inhabitants, 
and by three o'clock 
in the morning a num- 
ber of troops were col 
lected at Lexington, 
which was on the road 
to Concord, to oppose the progress of the British detachment 




THE ALARM. 



168 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Parliament and Congress. 



Now, neither party wished to begin the contest. Like 
two boys eager for a quarrel, each wished to throw the 
odium of striking the first blow upon the other. This diffi- 
culty is however usually soon surmounted, and in this case 
the musketry was soon speaking distinctly on both sides. 
After a momentary conflict, the Americans were dispersed, 
and the British moved on to the place of their destination. 

Now, after all this was over, there arose the question, not 
in itself very important, one would think, but yet made so 
by those concerned at the time. " Who began this affray ? 
Who fired first?" To determine this point, the American 
Congress are said to have instituted a formal inquiry. They 
examined witnesses who were on the spot and saw the whole, 
and they found abundant and satisfactory evidence that the 
British soldiers fired first, and that the Americans did not 
discharge their pieces until they were compelled to do it in 
aelf-defense. The British Parliament entered into a similar 
inquiry, and they came to an equally satisfactory conclusion 
— only it happened to be exactly the reverse of the other. 
They examined witnesses who were on the spot and saw the 
whole, and they found abundant evidence that the American 
soldiers fired first, and that the British did not discharge their 
pieces until they were compelled to do it in self-defense. 
Now, the reason for this disagreement unquestionably was, 
that each nation examined only its own soldiers, and the sol- 
diers on both sides were interested. Suppose now, that there 
had been in the American army a considerable number who 
admitted that the first guns were fired from their own ranks. 
Suppose that, in consequence of this their testimony, they 
brought upon themselves the dislike of the whole army, and, to 
a great extent, of the nation at large — how strong would have 
been the reliance placed upon such testimony ! " There can 
not be a doubt," the British would have said, " that you fired 
upon us first — half of your own troops say so." This would 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 169 

Points proved. Argument from prophecy. The Savior forotold. 

nave been a very fair inference. When men bear testimony 
contrary to their own interests or feelings, they are generally 
believed. 

We have thus abundant evidence that the original propa- 
gators of the Gospel were honest men, and this completes the 
three positions necessary to prove that the Christian miracles 
were actually performed. 

1. We are sure that the witnesses are honest men. 

2. The facts are of such a nature, that the witnesses could 
not have been deceived in them. 

3. It is proved that we have exactly the account which 
they themselves gave. 

The miracles being once proved, the divine authority of 
the religion is proved ; for no man can imagine that the 
Deity would exert his power in producing miraculous effects 
to give authority to a message which he did not send. 

There is one other independent head of the external evi- 
dences of Christianity ; it is the argument from prophecy. 
They who brought the communication which is offered to us 
as a message from heaven, declared that they were endued 
with the power, not only of working miracles, but of fore- 
telling future events. In some cases, human sagacity can 
foresee what is future, and even distant. These men however 
professed to exercise a prophetic power in cases to which no 
human skill or foresight could have extended. Such a power 
as this is evidently miraculous, and they who possess it must 
have received it from the Creator. 

One or two examples will clearly illustrate the nature of 
this argument. A great number of the prophets who ap- 
peared in the early years of the sacred history, foretold the 
coming of a Savior. Precisely what sort of a Savior he was 
to be, was not distinctly foretold — at least not so distinctly as 
to remove all misconceptions on the subject. So certain is 
it however that such prophecies were uttered, and generally 

H 



170 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Prophecies. Destruction of Jerusalem. 

published, that there prevailed throughout the Jewish nation, 
and even to some extent in neighboring countries, a general 
expectation that an extraordinary personage was to appear. 
We have evidence enough of this — not merely from the 
Scriptures themselves, but from a multitude of other writings, 
which existed at that time, and which have come down to 
us by separate and independent channels. There can be 
no question in the mind of any one who will examine the 
subject, that the coming of Christ was predicted with so 
much distinctness as to produce an almost universal expecta- 
tion of the appearance of some very extraordinary personage ; 
and the event corresponded with the prediction. A most 
extraordinary personage appeared ; the most extraordinary, 
as all will acknowledge — Christians and infidels — that ever 
appeared upon the earth. 

Our Savior's prediction of the destruction of Jerusalem is 
another example. The scene was described with astonishing 
minuteness and accuracy, sixty or seventy years before it took 
place— and there was, at the time of the prediction, no reason 
whatever, so far as human foresight could extend, to expect 
such a catastrophe. 

Now, to examine fully this species of argument, several 
points ought to receive special attention. First, we must 
ascertain that the prophecy was really anterior to the event 
which is alledged to have occurred in fulfillment of it. This 
now, in regard to writings and facts so ancient as those of 
the Scriptures, is a peculiarly difficult task. Secondly, we 
must know that the event is such an one as human foresight 
could not have foreseen. Thirdly, that there were net, in 
similar writings, a multitude of other prophecies which failed, 
and that those only have been preserved, which have appa- 
rently been verified. Among the ignorant and vulgar, no- 
thing is more common than a belief in the powers of fortune* 
tellers, or of the prophetic meaning of signs and dreams. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 171 



Fabe prophecies. Subject difficult. 

The reason why this imposture retains its ascendency is, that 
the few successful cases are remembered and talked about, 
and the cases of failure are neglected and forgotten. If a 
person predicts at random in regard to common events, he 
must sometimes be successful, and if his votaries will forget 
the unsuccessful attempts, he may soon have the reputation 
of a conjurer. Now we must ascertain that the prophe- 
cies of the Bible are not of this character, that is, a few 
lucky predictions among a multitude of failures. Fourthly, 
we must ascertain that the events themselves were not under 
the control of men in such a way as to enable those who 
were interested in the success of the prophecy to bring about 
the corresponding result. 

Now to examine thoroughly all these points, so as really 
to form an independent judgment upon them, and to take 
nothing upon trust, requires, in some instances, no little 
maturity of mind, and in others, no little scholarship and 
laborious research. The young must almost entirely take 
this argument upon trust. I can only explain its nature, 
and thus prepare you to read more understandingly othei 
works on this subject. Those who have gone into this argu- 
ment most thoroughly, as is the case in respect to all the 
historical evidences of Christianity, have been most convinced 
of the firmness of the ground. The most profound scholars 
in all Christian nations, if they have given the subject due 
attention, have been most decided in their belief of the Chris- 
tian religion. 

This completes the view which I intended to give of the 
historical argument. It would require a volume to present 
the argument itself in all its detail. My design has been to 
give a clear idea of the nature of this kind of reasoning, not 
to present all the facts upon which the various pillars of the 
argument are founded. 

And here I might rest this part of my subject, were it not 



172 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



Were the Christian witnesses believed? Contost with Paganisra. 

that there is one consideration which corroborates very much 
the conclusion to which we have come. The question very 
naturally arises, " Was the testimony of the Christian wit- 
nesses received as true by those to whom it was originally 
addressed ? It seems to be a plain case, that the disciples 
of Christ made out very decisive evidence of their divine 
commission ; but the people who lived at that time, and 
upon the spot, had a much better opportunity of judging 
in this case than we have. Now, did they believe this 
account ?" 

This is a very proper question. It is always asked in 
similar cases. A merchant will inquire, " Is the report be- 
lieved which was circulated on 'Change to-day?" "Was 
it generally believed in London that such or such an event 
would take place ?" And this belief or disbelief on the part 
of those who have the best opportunities of knowing, is some- 
times regarded as the strongest evidence which can be pro- 
cured. It is right, therefore, to ask whether the extraordinary 
story of the Christians was believed by those who were upon 
the spot to discover error or imposture, if any was to be found. 

The answer is, It ivas believed. The story spread with a 
rapidity to which no other revolution in the public mind can 
afford a parallel. When the "hundred and twenty" assem- 
bled in their upper room, after the death of Christ, paganism 
was enjoying undisturbed and unquestioned possession of the 
whole Roman empire. Paganism reigned in every crowded 
city and in every distant province. Her temples crowned a 
thousand summits ; and the multitude, whose interests were 
identified with the support of her rights, might at any time 
arm themselves with all the power of the Caesars to resist 
the encroachments of truth. A hundred and twenty, with 
the story of a crucified Galilean rising from the dead, came 
forth to attack this mighty fabric ; and they prevailed. 
Opprobrium and ridicule, — gentle persuasion and stern men 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 173 

Power of truth. Internal evidence. Unity of the Scriptures. 

aces, — imprisonment, fire, and sword, — torture and death, 
tried all their powers in vain. And by what means did the 
fearless assailants in this most unequal war prevail against 
such an array as this ? Why, simply by reiterating the 
declaration, Jesus Christ did actually and truly rise from 
the grave ; and it is the duty of all mankind to repent of 
their sins and believe in him. And they conquered. " The 
truth is great, and it will prevail," said a Roman writer. 
He could not have found an example like this. The simple 
declaration of a number of competent witnesses, after a most 
energetic struggle, prevails over one of the greatest civil and 
military powers which the world has ever seen. Yes ; the 
story was believed. It spread with unexampled rapidity 
and revolutionized the moral world. 

But we must pass to the second species of evidence we 
have enumerated. 



II. INTERNAL EVIDENCE. 

This evidence consists of an examination of the contents 
of the Bible, to see whether the declarations it contains are 
such as we may suppose would really come from our Maker. 
We ought to enter upon "such an examination, however, with 
great caution ; for if the book is really a message from Heaven, 
we are to receive it, whatever it may contain. It is not for 
us to decide w T hat our Maker ought, and what he ought not, 
to communicate to us. It is interesting, however, to examine 
the contents of the Scriptures, to observe the indications, with 
, which the volume is filled, that it is from God. Some of 
these indications I shall mention. 

1. The remarkable simplicity of its whole design. It 
seems to have one simple and single object from the begin- 
ning to the end ; and this is very remarkable, if we consider 



174 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

The Bible a uumber of books. Its sing] 3 object. 

how many distinct authors it has, and in how distant periods 
it was written. The Bible is not a book, but a library. It 
consists of a large number of books entirely separate and dis- 
tinct, bound up together. The times at which the various 
parts were written are scattered over a period of fifteen hun- 
dred years. The authors are numerous. It would be a very 
interesting exercise for young persons to attempt to make out 
an accurate list of them. They are of every variety of char- 
acter and standing — learned and unlearned, rich and poor, 
kings, poets, generals. There is every variety in the char- 
acter of the authors and of the style ; and yet one single, 
simple design is kept in view from the beginning to the end, 
with a steadiness which is astonishing. But what is that 
object ? It may be stated thus : 

The Bible is a history of the redemption of our race by 
Jesus Christ, and it is nothing more. From the beginning 
to the end of it, w r ith a very few, if any exceptions, it is 
nothing but that. Open at Genesis and follow on, chapter 
after chapter, and book after book, until you come to the final 
benediction in the last chapter of Revelation, it all bears upon 
this theme. Now, if this book w r as planned by Jehovah, and 
if he superintended its execution during the fifteen centuries 
it w r as in progress, all this is easily accounted for. No other 
supposition can account for it. 

But I must show more fully that this is the single and 
simple aim of the Scriptures. Let us briefly review its con- 
tents. It begins by explaining simply and clearly the crea- 
tion of the world, and God's design in creating it. His in- 
tention was to have had a happy community to tenant it, 
who should be united in each other, and united to him ; 
forming one family of undivided hearts and aims, all inter- 
ested in the common welfare, and all looking to him as to the 
common bond of union and the common source of happiness. 
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 175 



The Bible a history of Christ, 



thy neighbor as thyself," was unquestionably the law origin- 
ally written on the human heart. 

Men sinned, however ; — they broke God's law, and the 
Bible then describes the consequences of sin, in bringing suf- 
fering upon the human family. The earth was filled with 
violence. One dreadful experiment was tried, by the flood, 
of the power of punishment, of retribution, to bring men 
back to duty ; but they who escaped the flood escaped only 
to go on in sin. 

It is noticeable that, in one of the very first chapters of the 
Bible, the coming of the Savior is foretold, and from that 
time the sacred history marks out and follows with minute 
accuracy the line of succession which is to conduct us to that 
Savior. There were a vast many nations on the earth, or 
existing in embryo, at the time when the Israelites were in 
Egypt, whose history is far more important, in every respect 
but one, than is the history of the Jews. There were the 
Egyptians, the Assyrians, and the Persians. The sacred 
history neglects them all, and turns its whole attention to a 
body of Egyptian slaves ; and why ? Why it was because 
imong these slaves there was the ancestor of the coming 
Messiah. 

The Bible represents Jehovah as conducting this nation by 
his own hand to a country which was to be their home, in 
order that he might preserve them separate from the rest of 
mankind, and make them the keepers of his communications 
with men. A great deal of the Old Testament history is oc- 
cupied in giving us an account of the particular institutions 
established among this people, and of the circumstances of 
their own private history. In regard to their institutions, 
there seem to have been two distinct objects. One was to 
preserve the chosen people separate from the idolatrous na- 
tions around, in order that the worship of the true God might 
be the better preserved. The other object, perhaps more im- 



17ti YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Sacrifices. Meaning of sacrifices. 



portant, was effected by the institution of sacrifices ; of thia 
I shall presently speak more fully. This Jewish nation, 
however, in its institutions and histoiy, is followed by the 
sacred writers, who keep all the time as close as possible to 
the line of succession leading to Jesus Christ. The coming 
Savior is often alluded to, especially whenever any great 
crisis occurring in their history furnishes an occasion upon 
which God makes to some leading individual a distinct com- 
munication in regard to his designs. 

I have mentioned sacrifices. The design of Jehovah in 
establishing these rites so early, and taking such effectual 
precautions to secure their observance, seems to have been 
this : to familiarize the minds of men to the idea, that there 
must be something more than 'penitence to atone for sin. 
We are all much more ready to admit this in reference to 
any other government than to the divine. Many a father 
sees the inefneacy of pardon granted merely upon the ground 
of sorrow and confession, to restrain his sons from sin ; and 
many a politician will admit the folly of such a course in 
civil society, who yet think that God may govern his domin- 
ions on such a principle. In all God's dealings, however, 
with man, he has taken other ground. Sacrifices were in- 
stituted so early, that they have spread to almost every peo- 
ple under the sun. Wherever you go — to the most distant 
heathen nation — to the most barbarous tribe — or to the re- 
motest island of the ocean, you will find almost all men pre- 
pared, by the very customs which have been handed down 
from the time of Noah, to admit the necessity, that there 
must be retributive suffering ivhere there has been sin. God 
required the Jews, when they had done wrong, to bring an 
offering ; not to lead them to suppose that the sufferings of 
bulls and goats could take away sin, but to accustom them 
to the conviction that some atonement was necessary. The 
effect upon their minds was undoubtedly this : — -A man hav- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 177 

Their moral influence. 

ing committed some sin, instead of merely confessing his guilt, 
and expecting forgiveness as a matter of course, came with 
the innocent dove, or the harmless lamh, and offered it in 
sacrifice ; and when he did it, if he did it in the right spirit, 
he unquestionably felt that his sin had done an injury to the 
government of God, which he, himself, could not repair. 
He could not come back to innocence alone. The ceremony 
must have had a most powerful influence in producing a 
practical conviction that sin, once committed, could not be 
recalled by the individual who had committed it, but must 
involve consequences beyond his control. That is precisely 
the conviction necessary to enable us to avail ourselves of the 
redemption of Christ. It is exactly the preparation of heart 
to lead us to him. We have sinned, and the evil which we 
have done it is out of our power to remedy. We may cease 
sinning, but the evil influence of our past guilt must be 
checked by some other agency far more powerful than any 
penitence of ours. The Jews, then, by coming habitually to 
the sacrifices of their law, had this feeling thoroughly wrought 
into all their thoughts and feelings on the subject of sin and 
pardon. When they came with sincere penitence to offer 
the sacrifice required by the law, and w T ith such a feeling as 
I have described, they were undoubtedly forgiven through 
the mediation of a far greater sacrifice, which was only rep- 
resented by the dove or the lamb. 

If we thus look at the Jewish history and institutions, and 
consider their spirit and design, we shall see that they all 
point to Christ. One single object is aimed at in all. After 
the history is brought down to the return from captivity, it 
is suddenly concluded — and why ? Because all is now 
ready for the coming of Christ. There is a chasm of some 
hundred years, not because the events of that time are less 
interesting than of the preceding — to the eye of the mere 
scholar or political historian, they are more so — but because 



178 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Conclusion of the book. 



they do not bear at all upon the great event, the redemp* 
tion of mankind by Jesus Christ, to which the whole Bible 
tends. The nation from which the promised Savior is to 
come, is followed in its various difficulties and adventures, 
until it becomes finally established in the country where 
the Messiah is to appear, and then is left. There could not 
be a stronger proof that the Bible has the history of Christ 
for its great object, or that that object is kept steadily in 
view. 

As we draw toward the development of the drama, how- 
ever, the story becomes more minute, and the interest in- 
creases. The great Redeemer at length appears. We 
have, from four separate writers, a narrative of his life ; we 
have a simple account of the first efforts to spread the news 
of salvation through him ; we have a few of the writings of 
some of those who originally received his instructions, and 
then a revelation of the future — in some respects clear and 
distinct in the awful pictures of scenes to come which it 
draws, and in others dark, and as yet unintelligible to us — 
closes the volume. 

There is something deeply sublime in the language with 
which this final conclusion of the sacred volume is an- 
nounced. Perhaps it was intended to apply particularly to 
the book of Revelation itself, but we can scarcely read it 
without the conviction that the writer felt that he was 
brinp-inp: to a close a series of communications from heaven 
which had been making for fifteen hundred years. The 
great subject of the whole was now fairly presented to man- 
kind. The nature and the effects of sin, the way of salvation, 
and the future scenes through which we are all to pass, had 
been described, and he closes with the invitation — how 
cordially it is expressed — " And the Spirit and the bride 
say, Come, — and let him that heareth say, Come ;" — that 
is, spread the invitation far and wide. Let -every one that 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 179 

Appropriate language. Advent of the Savior. Its time and place. 

heareth it repeat the sound. " Let him that is athirst come, 
and whosoever will, let him partake of the water of life 
freely." 

And then he says — and how appropriate for the last 
language of the Bible ! — 

11 1 testify unto every man that hsareth the words of the 
prophecy of this book, if any man shall add unto these 
things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written 
in this book ; and if any man shall take away from the words 
of the book of this prophecy, G-od shall take away his part 
out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the 
things which are written in this book." 

Yes, the plan and object of the Bible is single and simple 
from beginning to end. Amidst all that endless variety 
which makes it an inexhaustible mine of interest and 
instruction, the great ultimate design is never lost sight of 
or forgotten. That design is the redemption of a lost icorld 
by the Son of God ; a design which is surely great enough 
for Jehovah to announce to his creatures. 

There is something interesting in the time and place 
selected for the advent of the Savior. This earth beino; a 
globe, of course has not, that is, its surface has not, any 
geographical center ; but if we take into view its moral and 
political condition and history, it has some parts far more 
suitable to be radiant points from which any extraordinary 
message from heaven is to be disseminated, than others. 
It would be difficult to find a place more suitable for such 
a purpose than the very country chosen by Jehovah as the 
scene of the sufferings and death of Christ. Look upon 
the map, and you find that the land of Canaan is situated 
upon the eastern coast of the Mediterranean sea ; and if 
you look east, west, north, and south, at the various con- 
nections of this spot, you will find that no other on earth 
will compare with it for the purpose for which it was 



80 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The Mediterranean sea. 



selected. Egypt and the other regions of Africa on th* 
south, are balanced by Syria and the Caucasian countries on 
the north. There were the Persian and Assyrian empires on 
the east, and there were the Grecian and Iloman empires on 
the west. India and China, with their immense multitudes, 
are upon one side, and modern France, and England, 
and Germany, with their vast political power, upon the 
other. Then look upon the Mediterranean sea, — on the 
borders of which Canaan lies, — bathing as it does the shores 
of three quarters of the globe, and bearing upon its bosom 
almost every ship that sailed for the first five thousand 
years of the earth's history. In a word, if no such communi- 
cation as the Christian revelation had ever been made from 
heaven, and the earth had remained in darkness and pagan- 
ism to the present day, its history having remained, in other 
respects, the same as it has been ; and we had looked over it 
to find the best station for an embassy from above, Judea 
would have been the very spot. We should have pointed to 
the Levant, and said, here is the moral center of the world. 
If a missionary from heaven is to be sent, let him be stationed 
here. 

It is surprising how much of the interesting history of 
the human race has had for its scene the shores of the 
Mediterranean. Egypt is there. There is Greece. Xerxes, 
Darius, Solomon, Csesar, Hannibal, knew no extended sea 
but the Mediterranean. The mighty armies of Persia, and 
the smaller, but invincible bands of the Grecians, passed 
its tributaries. Pompey fled across it ; the fleets of Rome 
and Carthage sustained their deadly struggles upon its 
waters ; and, until the discovery of the passage round the 
Cape of Good Hope, the commerce of the world passed 
through the ports of the Mediterranean. If we go back to 
ancient ages, we find the Phenician sailors — the first who 
ventured upon the unstable element — slowly and fearfully 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



18 



Interesting associations. 



steering their little barks along the shores of this sea ; and 
if we come down to modern times, we see the men-of-war 
of every nation proudly plowing its waves, or riding at anchor 




the Man-of-war. 



in its harbors. There is not a region upon the face of the 
earth so associated with the recollection of all that is interest- 
ing in the history of our race, as the shores of the Mediter 
ranean sea ; nor a place more likely to be chosen by the 
Creator as the spot where he would establish his communi- 
cation with men, than the land of Judea. 

The time selected is as worthy of notice as the place ; 
I mean now, the time of the advent of the Messiah. The 
world had been the scene of war and bloodshed for many 
centuries ; empire after empire had arisen, each upon the ruins 
of the preceding, none however obtaining a very general 
sway ; at last the Roman power obtained universal ascen- 



1S2 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



<JJha*acter ;f God. Language of nature. 

dency — and all was at peace. A very considerable degree 
af civilization and knowledge prevailed over a great part of 
the then known world ; and every thing was favorable to 
the announcement and rapid spread of a message from 
heaven, provided that the message itself should come properly 
authenticated. The message did come, and it was properly 
authenticated ; and the peculiar suitableness of the time and 
place selected was seen in the very rapid spread of the Gospel 
over almost half the globe. 

There is another topic to be noticed, which forms a part ol 
the internal evidence of the truth of Christianity. The char- 
acter and administration of God, as exhibited in the Bible, 
correspond precisely with the same character and administra- 
tion, as exhibited in the light of nature. They both exhibit 
God as most benevolent in his character, but most decided 
and efficient in his government. In both, we find him pro- 
viding most fully for the happiness of his creatures ; but in 
both we see him frowning upon sin with an awful severity 
of judgment. This is a fundamental point, and it ought to 
be fully understood. Let us look then at God, as he reveals 
himself in his providence, compared with the views of him 
which the Bible presents. 

See yonder child, beginning life with streams of enjoy- 
ment coming in at every sense ; he is so formed, that every 
thing that he has to do is a source of delight. He has an 
eye. God has contrived it most ingeniously, to be the means 
by which pleasure comes in every moment to him. He has 
an ear, so intricately formed, that no anatomist or physiolo- 
gist has yet been able to understand its mysteries. God has 
so planned it, that he takes in with delight the sounds which 
float around him. How many times, and in how many ways, 
does he find enjoyment by its instrumentality ! The tones 
of conversation — the evening song of his mother — the hum 
of the insect — the noise of the storm — the rumbling of distant 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 183 

Of the Bible. The sufferer in the hospital. 

thunder ; — for how many different but delightful emotions has 
the Creator provided ! So with all the other senses ; and now, 
after you have examined in this way the whole structure, 
body and mind, of this being, follow him out to a summer's 
walk, and see how a benevolent Creator pours upon him. 
from all the scenery of nature, an almost overwhelming tide 
of delight. God smiles upon him in the aspect of the blue 
heavens, in the verdure of the fields, in the balmy breath of 
air upon his cheek — and in the very powers and faculties 
themselves, which he has so formed, that every motion is de- 
light, and every pulsation a thrill of pleasure. Such a reve- 
lation does nature make to us of the character of God, and of 
his feelings toward his creatures ; and the testimony of the 
Bible corresponds — " God is love." 

But nature speaks to us sometimes in another tone. Let 
this child grow up, and abandon himself to vice and crime, 
and after the lapse of a few years, let us see him again. 
How changed will be the scene ! To see him, you must fol- 
low me to the hospital-room of an almshouse ; for he has 
given himself up to vice, and endured suffering as a vaga- 
bond in the streets, until society can no longer endure to wit- 
ness his misery, and men send him to an asylum out of their 
sight, in mercy both to themselves and to him. He lies 
upon his bed of straw in uninterrupted agony — his bones are 
gnawed, and his flesh corroded by disease — every motion is 
torment, every pulsation is anguish ; for the God who has so 
formed the human constitution, that in innocence, and in the 
health which generally attends it, all is happiness and peace, 
has yet so formed it, that vice can bring upon it sufferings, — 
awful sufferings — of which no one but the miserable victim can 
conceive. I once saw in an almshouse, a sufferer, whose pic- 
ture has been in my imagination while writing the above. I 
have used general terms in my description. I might have given 
a much more detailed and vivid picture of his condition, but 



184 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



The awful misery which vice sometimes brings upon its votaries. 

it was too shocking to describe. Were my readers to wit- 
ness the scene, the image of it would haunt them day and 
night. As I stood by the side of this man, and reflected that 
God had brought him into that condition, and that God tvas 
holding him there, and probably would hold him in the same 
awful suffering while life should remain, I could not help 
saying to myself, " With how efficient and decided a moral 
Governor have we do !" No man would have held this 
miserable being in his sufferings a moment : the superintend- 
ent of the hospital would have released him instantly, if it 
had been in his power ; but God had the power, and he held 
the guilty breaker of his law under the dreadful weight of 
its penalty. Man shrinks from witnessing suffering, even 
where it is necessary to inflict it ; but this feeling will not 
measure, and it has no power to limit God's dreadful energy 
in the punishment of sin. All nature teaches us this, and 
the language that the Bible uses is the same. " God is a 
consuming fire.'' Our feelings can no more contemplate with 
composure, as our hearts are now constituted, the judgments 
which the Bible denounces against the wicked in another 
world, than they can the agonies of delirium tremens, or the 
gnawings of the diseases with which God overwhelms the dis- 
sipated and the vile. In both cases there is a severity whose 
justice we must admit, but whose consequences we can not 
calmly follow. If any one thinks that I describe the charac- 
ter of God in too dark and gloomy colors, I have only to say, 
that all nature and all revelation unite in painting God in 
the most dark and gloomy colors possible, as he exhibits him- 
self toivard those ivho persist in breaking his laio. He is 
love to his friends, but he is a consuming fire to his foes ; and 
every one ought to go to the judgment, expecting to find a 
Monarch thus decided and efficient in the execution of his 
laws, presiding there. 

" The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice" says the Psalm- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 185 

Butler's Analogy. Experimental evidence. 

ist ; and again he says, " The Lord reigneth, let the people 
tremble." We have abundant evidence, both in nature and 
revelation, that we must rejoice with trembling, under the 
government of God ; for that government is most efficient 
and decided against sin — and we are sinners. 

There are many other points of correspondence between 
the character and administration of God, as described in the 
Bible, and as exhibited in the constitution of nature ; but I 
must not stop now to describe them. Butler, in an admirable 
work, usually called Butler's Analogy, has explored this 
ground fully ; and I would recommend to all my readers who 
take an interest in this subject, to obtain and study that work. 
I say study it, for it is not a work to be merely read, in the 
ordinary sense of that term ; it must be most thoroughly 
studied, and studied too by minds in no inconsiderable de- 
gree mature, in order to be fully appreciated. 

I have endeavored, by thus mentioning several points in 
which evidence may be found in favor of the truth of the 
Scriptures, from an examination of their contents, to illus- 
trate the nature of the Internal Evidence. I have not de- 
signed to present the argument fully. * Having accomplish- 
ed, however, the purpose intended, I now proceed to the 
third head I proposed. 

III. EXPERIMENTAL EVIDENCE. 

The Experimental Evidence of the truth of Christianity 
is its moral power over the human heart. This is the most 
convincing of all. It is direct. There is no laborious exami- 
nation of witnesses to bring the truth to us — no groping in 

* I would recommend to those of my readers who are interested in 
this part of my subject, the examination of the following works: 
Chalmers's Evidences of Christianity ; Paley's do. ; Alexander's do. ; 
Leslie's Short Method with Deists; Paley's Horse Paulinae; Butler's 
Analogy. 



186 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Case of sickness supposed. 



the dimness of ancient times, or straining of the sight to as- 
certain the forms of objects, and the characters of occurrences 
there. All is before us. We can see distinctly, — for the 
proof is near. We can examine it minutely and leisurely, — 
for it is constantly recurring. 

I have remarked, that I considered this species of evidence 
far more calculated to make a strong impression upon the 
mind than either of the two preceding classes which I have 
described, on account of the difficulty, on the part of those 
whose lives are not devoted to literary pursuits, of looking 
back eighteen hundred years, and judging with confidence of 
evidence relating to events that occurred then. But I have 
heard it remarked, by men amply qualified to investigate 
such subjects, that the power of the Bible, as they have often 
seen it exerted, in elevating to virtue and to happiness some 
miserable victim of vice and crime, has made a far stronger 
impression upon them, in favor of its divine origin, than any 
examination of the labored arguments of learned men. Now 
this must be so, not only in the case of Christianity, but in 
all similar cases. 

Suppose that some dreadful plague should break out in 
London, and after raging for many months, — suspending all 
business, driving away from the city all who could fly, and 
carrying consternation and death into all the families that 
should remain, — suppose that, after all this, the news should 
arrive, that in some distant part of the earth a remedy had 
been discovered for the disease. We will imagine it to have 
been in China. Perhaps the same disease had broken out in 
former times at Canton, and some plant growing in that 
vicinity had been found to be a specific against it : it would 
cure the sick and protect the healthy. The government of 
Great Britain concludes to send a ship to China to obtain a 
supply of the remedy. After waiting the proper time for the 
voyage, a telegraph announces the arrival of the ship on her 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 187 

Medicine. Proof of it. 

return. She sails up the Thames, comes to anchor, and soon 
the remedy for which they have all waited so anxiously is in 
full circulation ahout the city. Now, what will interest the 
people of London most in such a case ? Will it be an 
examination of the officers of that ship, in order to satisfy 
themselves that they are not imposing some spurious article 
on the nation ? Will they lay aside the remedy itself, and 
allow the sick to die, and the well to be attacked, while they 
examine the proof that this ship has actually been to China, 
and that her supercargo was really faithful in obtaining the 
identical article for which he was sent ? No — all such 
inquiries, if they are made at all, would be left to the few 
official agents by whom the ship had been employed. The 
mass of the population would turn their thoughts to the rem- 
edy itself, with the eager question, " Will this medicine cure ?" 
And, notwithstanding any skepticism or opposition on the 
part of the few who might be interested in sustaining some 
other mode of treatment, the important remedy, if found 
successful upon trial, would soon be in universal use among 
the sick all over the city. 

Now, shall a man who is still under the power and do- 
minion of sin, with this great remedy, which has saved, and 
is continually saving thousands all around him, entirely 
within his reach, shall he waste his time in speculations and 
inquiries in regard to the manner in which Christianity came 
into the world, instead of flying to it at once as the remedy 
for all his sin and suffering ? No : come at once and try the 
remedy. It restores others to health and happiness, and it 
will restore you. Come and be saved by it, and then you 
may inquire at your leisure how it came into the world. 

In regard to the case supposed above, I have spoken of the 
skepticism or opposition of those who might be interested in 
some other mode of treatment. Suppose one of these men, 
interested in the continuance of the disease, and inhuman 



188 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The mother and her sick sons. 



enough to desire on this account to perpetuate the misery of 
his fellows, should come into some wretched tenement in a 
crowded part of the city, and should find there one or two 
inmates under all the power of the disease. They are chil- 
dren. The mother has been away to some public office from 
which the remedy is distributed to the poor, and has obtained 
a supply for her dying boys. As she comes to their bedside, 
and begins with trembling joy to administer it, her hand is 
arrested by the visitor, who says to her, " Stop ; how do you 
know that this is a real remedy for this disease. I believe 
it is all an imposition. That ship never came from China. 
I believe the captain and crew united in an attempt to 
impose upon the community ; at any rate, you have yet no 
evidence to the contrary. You have not examined her 
papers — you have seen no official documents — you have 
heard no witnesses. If you are wise you will look into this 
subject a little more before you place your confidence in a 
remedy which will probably, after all, prove only imposture 
and delusion." 

What would be the reply ? The mother, if she should 
stop to say any thing, would say this : 

" I have not time to examine any documents or witnesses ; 
my children are dying. Beside, this medicine has cured 
hundreds in this city, and is curing hundreds more. Nay, I 
was myself sick, and it cured me. That is the evidence I 
rely upon. I believe it will save them/ and there is nothing 
else to be tried." 

That is in substance what she would say, and they who 
wish to be saved from sin should say the same. You suffer 
now under this disease, and you must suffer more hereafter, 
and nothing but Christianity "pretends to be able to save you. 
This is successful, wherever it is tried. Now suppose an infidel, 
or a vicious man, interested in perpetuating sin in this world, 
and inhuman enough to be willing that the sufferings of sin 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 189 

Tho unbeliever. Power of Christianity. 



should continue to burden his fellows, should come and say 
to you, " This religion is delusion — it is all an imposture. " 
You need not go with him into any examination of docu- 
ments and witnesses ; you ought only to say, "Christianity 
saves others and makes them virtuous and happy — and I 
hope it will save me." 

But I must present more distinctly the evidence that 
Christianity has power to rescue from sin, and that it exhibits 
this power now in the world. " And now how shall I show 
this ?" thought I, when I first began to reflect on the way in 
which I should treat this part of my subject. " How shall 
I present most clearly and vividly to the young the moral 
loower of Christianity ?" I thought first of the elevated rank 
in knowledge, in civilization, to which all Christian nations 
had attained, and concluded to show, if I could, that the 
passions and sins of men always, when left to themselves, 
loaded them with a burden which kept the mind from ex- 
panding and the arts of life from flourishing, and bound 
down the whole community in barbarism or in subjection to 
despotic power. Among the thousands of nations of which 
this earth has been the home, there have not been more than 
half a dozen exceptions to this. Now Christianity, where it 
freely prevails, controls human passions, and purifies commu- 
nities to such an extent that mind is free ; and then the 
energies with which God has endowed the soul of man 
freely expand. Religion has taken off the pressure which 
had imprisoned them ; and thus Christian nations have 
arisen to a rank, and power, and freedom, which no other 
communities have ever attained. There is not a savage 
Christian nation on the globe. A savage Christian ! It 
d3 a contradiction in terms. 

But I thought that such general views and statements 
were not calculated to produce so distinct and clear an 
impression upon the mind, especially upon the young ; and 



190 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Particular case State prison. 

then I thought that I might point my readers to particular 
cases of the beneficial moral influence of Christianity — such 
as have occurred, undoubtedly, within the observation of 
every one. There is not a village in our land where are not 
to be seen some of the triumphs of the Gospel. There is a 
vicious man reclaimed, or a careless, selfish, ungovernable 
youth made humble, and faithful, and docile, by the power 
of the Bible. Such cases are within the observation of every 
one ; and if each one of my readers would look at some such 
instance which has occurred within his own immediate reach, 
and examine all its circumstances, he would find it an over- 
whelming proof that the Bible is indeed a remedy for sin. 
But the difficulty is, that such examples are so common that 
they lose all their power to impress us. The cases of reform 
from vice and sin, now continually taking place in every 
truly Christian country, would be regarded with admiration, 
were they solitary ; but they are common, — very common 
— and thus produce a comparatively faint impression. 

But to show distinctly the efficacy of this remedy for sin, 
I shall point you to its operation in particular cases. And 
in choosing the cases to present, I have selected some where 
the disease had indeed made great progress, but which are 
in other respects very common. They are both cases of con- 
victs in a state prison. I might perhaps have selected narra- 
tions far more interesting and striking in their attendant 
circumstances, but I have chosen to present those which may 
be taken as a fair specimen of the ordinary effects of the 
Bible in saving from sin. My object is utility, and it is 
therefore far better to secure sound logic than to bring for- 
ward a romantic story. 

The reason why I take the cases of convicts is, that I am 
now considering Christianity in regard to its power to heal 
the disease, sin ; of course, the more violent the form of dis- 
ease, the more clear is the exhibition of power in the remedy 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 191 

Old and new system of discipline. Stories of the convicts, 

which cures it. The prisons of our country may be con* 
sidered as hospitals, moral hospitals, where those whose dis- 
eases have become so violent and malignant, that it is no 
longer safe to allow them to go at large in society, are shut 
up, so that they can injure no one, at least for a time. It 
has been, and is now the practice in many countries, to shut 
up those miserable victims together, and leave them to them- 
selves. Of course they grow worse and worse. That prac- 
tice is as absurd as it would be to send a hundred patients, 
in all the stages of fever, consumption, and plague, into one 
great crowded hospital together, with no physician, no medi- 
cine, and no attendants but turnkeys, and there to leave 
them, each one by means of the unobstructed intercommuni- 
cation conveying his own peculiar infection to all the rest ; 
the whole exposed to every cause that can aggravate disease. 
and thus forming one living mass of pestilence and corrup- 
tion. Such have been a great many prisons, and those who 
entered them came out far worse than they went in. 

Some philanthropists formed, some years ago, the plan of 
visiting these prisons, and carrying the Bible there, believing' 
that its moral power would be great enough to cure ever 
those desperate cases of disease — and it has succeeded. A 
vast number of the most abandoned men have been entirely 
reformed by it. I do not mean that they have pretended t<* 
be reformed while in the prison, but have proved themselves 
reformed by their good conduct after having been restored tc 
society, when the time of their imprisonment had expired. 

The account of the first case which I shall adduce wa* 
taken down from the individual's own lips by a Christian 
friend, who was visiting him in the prison. The record was 
made without any expectation of its ever being used for the 
purpose to which it is appropriated here, and there is nothing 
extraordinaiy in the story, except that the subject of it was 
a very bad man. I give the account in his own language, 



192 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The disobedient son. 



except that I have in one or two instances inserted a few 
words to make the sense more clear, and I have omitted some 
of the very frank confessions of his vices and crimes, which 
could not be properly introduced into this book. 

THE FIRST CONVICT'S STORY. 

" When I had been in prison about eighteen months, I 
began to think of my past ways, and to see that I had sinned 
against God — to think about dying, and where I should go 
when I die and appear before God. When I first came here, 
I did not think any thing about dying ; I had no just idea 
of the Holy Scriptures, and did not know any thing of the 
Lord. I first began to think about my former life, when I 
had been here about eighteen months. Once I went off from 
all my friends, and never let any of them know where I was 
going. I led one of my brothers away, and it was the means 
of his death. After I lost my brother I went home again, 
and my father blamed me for leading him away. I had 
been two years from my home, and my parents said that I 
was the means of my brothers death. They tried to make 
me steady, and get me work at home then ; but I wouldn't 
be steady more than a few months before I went off again. 
My father told me I was fitting myself for State's prison. I 
went away however, and it was only about two months be- 
fore I committed my crime and was put into jail. That was 
the first time I ever saw the inside of prison. I often used 
to think of my brother after I came into the prison. A great 
many nights I used to see a black coffin placed before me, 
and hear a voice telling me that I must go soon and follow 
him. I not only thought of these things, but all my wicked 
thoughts and all my actions were presented before me — what 
I had done, and how I had walked in the sight of the 
Lord. I used to be a very vicious man, and all the places 
where I had been would appear before me. And I used to 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 193 

Conversation. 

be a violent blasphemer, too, and a riotous person ; and I saw 
a sign which said, this is the road adulterous persons and 
blasphemers go. 

" After I had thought about my wicked life, I felt that I 
had incurred the holy displeasure of the Lord, and deserved 
all that he could inflict upon me. I thought that I could not 
suffer too much. I could then see the hand of the Lord, how 
it had followed me in every place where I had been. I found 
that it was the law of the Lord that brought me here, for sins 
which I had committed against God, and not against my fellow- 
men." Here the gentleman who was visiting him asked him, 

" How does your heart appear to you now ?" 

" My heart appears at times set upon evil : but then some- 
times I feel that I shall get to heaven ; and then again, I 
feel very much discouraged. Whenever wicked thoughts 
arise in my heart, I sometimes feel that the Lord has given 
me up. Then again, there is something to enliven my feel- 
ings, and all my wicked thoughts go away ; my worldly 
thoughts will be drawn away, and my mind will be on 
heavenly things. I did not know what it meant, when my 
heart used to burn within me, until I asked my teacher in 
Sabbath-school, if man's heart would be warm when he 
had right feelings of heart." 

" Do you find temptation to sin now?" asked the gentle- 
man. 

"Yes, sir." 

"What do you do?" 

" I trust in the Lord." 

" Do you yield to your evil passions and lusts now ?" 

" I have, sometimes. I feel now that the Lord will keep 
me from them. There is nothing that causes me to grieve 
so, as that very thing." 

" Does it take away your happiness ?" 

" It did for a time." 

I 



194 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



His struggles with sin. The story true. 

" What security can you have, that when you go out, you 
will not just do as you have done ?" 

" All my hope is in the Lord. I rely upon the mercy of 
the Lord to keep me. Of myself, I can do nothing : I rely 
upon the mercy of the Lord." 

'• Was you a drunken man ?" 

'I have been intoxicated a number of times, but I was 
never much given to it." 

In the course of the conversation, the convict said : 

" I want to ask if, after men have repented of their sins, there 
will ever be times when they will give up to them again?" 

" It is a very bad sign if they do," replied the gentleman. 

" Once, when I was greatly tempted, I wept before the 
Lord night after night, and there was a man appeared to me 
in the room, and said to me, ' Thy sins are pardoned ;' and 
since that I have been no more tempted, and I think it was 
to show me that I had trusted too much to my own heart. I 
thought I had been so long without any temptation that I 
was fairly weaned. I thought so ; but then I was tempted, 
and now know that I trusted more to my own heart than I 
did to the Lord." 

Such was the substance of the conversation ; and I beg 
that my readers will not forget that my object in presenting 
it, is not to offer them a remarkable or an interesting story. 
There is nothing remarkable in it, and, excepting for the 
purpose of my argument, nothing particularly interesting. 
It is, however, a remarkably fair specimen of the ordinary 
operation of religious truth, in convicting of sin, and bringing 
man back to his duty. 

But I must postpone the comments upon this story which 
I intend to make, until I have given the second narative. 
The reason why I present two is, because no one that I could 
obtain, exhibits so fully as I could wish, all the important 
points which I wish to bring to view. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 195 

Second story. Nature of ardent spirit. William's crime. 

SECOND CONVICT'S STORY. 

There lived in one of the middle states some years ago, 
a man whom I shall call William. I suppress his real 
name. His character was bad, and he worked in the em- 
ployment of another man whose character was worse than 
his own. 

William's employer had a quarrel with one of his neigh 
bors, and attempted to hire William to kill him. He 
endeavored for five or six months to induce William to do it, 
but he did not succeed. William, however, manifested a 
degree of indecision on the subject, which encouraged his 
wicked employer to persevere in his attempts. A good man 
would have refused an application like that in such terms 
and in such a manner that it never would have been 
renewed. 

At length however William and another desperate charac- 
ter, one of his associates, were prevailed upon to undertake 
the murder. When the appointed time arrived, the em- 
ployer gave them a liberal supply of rum to stimulate theii 
courage, and nerve them for the deed. After drinking the 
rum the two men proceeded to a wood, where they were to 
waylay their victim. 

William lay down in the skirts of the wood and went to 
sleep. The other man watched. Presently however he 
came and awoke William, and said to him, " If we mean to 
do any thing we must go and do it now." William accord- 
ingly rose, and they went together. When they came to 
their victim, William shot at him, and then his accomplice 
took the gun and beat him over the head till he was dead. 

Two persons were hung for this crime, and William was 
sentenced to the State prison for a long time. The man 
whom they had killed was a very bad man ; but as William 
afterward said, that was no cloak for the murdeiers. 



196 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Learning to read in prison. First lesson. 



When William came to the prison he was very ignorant ; 
he did not know his own age accurately, and he could not 
read. There was in that prison, however, a very faithful 
chaplain, who knowing that the Bible alone could be the 
means of reforming the miserable convicts, always placed 
that book before them immediately. When they could not s 
read, he used to teach them. 

The method which this chaplain adopted in teaching the 
ignorant prisoners to read, was quite different from the 
one usually pursued with young children at school. The 
first lesson that he gave them was the first word in the 
Bible — Ln. 

" That word is — In" the teacher would say to the 
prisoner in his cell — " Can you see how many letters there 
in it?" 

" Two," the prisoner would reply, after examining it. 

" Yes," answers the teacher; "the first letter is called 
i; the second n: These letters are very common in the 
Bible, and in all reading ; see if you can find another n any- 
where on this page." 

The prisoner then would look very attentively along the 
lines until he found the letter required. If he made a mis- 
take, and found an m or an r instead, the teacher would 
explain the difference, and call his attention more fully to 
the true form of the n. He would also explain the difference 
between the capital and small i, and show his pupil that 
he must expect to find the small i generally. He would 
then leave him, asking him to find as many of these letters 
as he could before the teacher would come again. The next 
lesson would be the next word, the; arl thus the pupil 
would go on slowly, spelling his way, until le had learned to 
read for himself. 

The attempt to learn to read was proposed to William, 
and he commenced it ; and although considerably advanced 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 197 



Effects of the Bible upon William. Sins against God. 

in life, he made no little progress in his work. He was soon 
able to read considerably ; and as the truths of the word of 
God came home to his mind they produced their usual effects 
there ; they led him to see his sins, and to feel them ; and 
they led him to come to the Savior for pardon. His whole 
character was changed ; but I must allow him to describe 
this change in his own words. 

These words were taken down by the same gentleman 
whom I have mentioned before. He visited the prisoner, 
and after first conversing with him in regard to the crime for 
which he had been committed, asked him, 

"Well, William, how do this and all your other sins 
now appear to you ?" 

" Very great," said he ; " but this does not appear so great 
as all my other sins against God — cursing and swearing, 
and getting drunk. When I first began to reflect in my 
cell, I saw my sins so great that I felt I could not be forgiven. 
T was sitting down one day at my work in the prison, and 
the chaplain came along and asked me what was my crime, 
I told him. 

" ' That,' said he, ' is one of the greatest crimes ; but then 
you may remember David's sin, and he was forgiven. Let 
your crime be as great as it will, pray to God, and put your 
trust in him, and you shall find rest to your soul.' 

" He told me also, that if I could not read, he would 
visit me in my cell, and put me in the way. I shall ever 
love him while God gives me breath ; I shall love the 
chaplain, for he put me in the way to obtain the salvation 
of my soul ; he made me promise him faithfully that I 
would go to God, and try to find mercy ; and yet, master, 
I had doubt in my heart — my sins were so heavy — whether I 
should be forgiven. The chaplain soon left me, and I went 
into my cell and poured out my heart to God to have mercy 



VJb YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



William's mental suffering. 



oil mc. The more I prayed the more miserable I grew. 
Heavier and heavier were my sins. 

"The next day Mr. B. came to see me, and I asked him 
to read a chapter to me ; and, as God would have it, he 
turned to the 55th chapter of Isaiah. It said, ' Every one 
that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath n 
money, come ye, buy wine and milk without price.' He 
read along to where the prophet says, ' Let the wicked 
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and 
let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon 
him, and to our God, for he, will abundantly pardon. For 
my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways 
my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher 
than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and 
my thoughts than your thoughts.' 

" I found this gave me great encouragement to go on to 
pray, to see if I could find relief from all my troubles — the 
load of sin that was on my heart. I thought and prayed, 
and the more I prayed the more wretched I grew — the 
heavier my sins appeared to be. 

" A night or two after that, the chaplain came to my cell 
and asked me how I felt. I told him my sins were greater 
than I could bear — so guilty — so heavy. He asked me if I 
thought praying would make my sins any less, I gave him no 
answer. He soon left me, and I went again to prayer. I 
was almost fit to expire. In all my sorrows I had not a 
right sorrow. My sorrow was because I had sinned against 
man. 

" The Sunday following, just after I had carried my 
dinner into my cell, I put my dinner down, and went to 
prayer. I rose, and just as I rose from my prayer the 
chaplain was at the door. ' We are all guilty creatures,' 
he said to me, ' and we can not be saved, except God, for 
Christ's sake, will save us. If we pray and go to God, we 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 199 

His prayer. His way of finding the 51st Psalm. 

must go in the name of Jesus Christ ; if we expect to be 
saved, we must be saved through the blood and righteous- 
ness of Jesus Christ.' Then I picked up encouragement. 

" ' The sins which you have committed,' he went on, ' are 
against your fellow-creatures, but they are much more 
against God.' Now I never knew before that they were 
against God. When the chaplain left me, I went to prayer 
again. I could eat nothing that day. I did not eat a 
mouthful. 

" I recollected at that time that a minister had told me, 
whenever I had a chapter read, to have the 51st Psalm. I 
could not see any body to get to read it, and how to find it I 
did not know, and the Sunday following, before the keeper 
unlocked the door, I rose up, and I went to prayer, and I 
prayed, c Lord, thou knowest I am ignorant, brought up in 
ignorance. Thou knowest my bringing up. Nothing is too 
hard for thee to do. May it please thee, Lord, to show me 
that chapter, that I may read it with understanding.' I rose 
from prayer, and went to my Bible, and took it up. I began 
at the first Psalm, and turned over and counted every Psalm, 
and it appeared to me that God was with me, and I counted 
right to the 51st Psalm. I could read a little, and I begun 
to spell H-a-v-e m-e-r-c-y, &c. ; I looked over the Psalm, and 
spelled it, and read it, and then put the Bible down, and fell 
upon my knees, and prayed : ' Have mercy upon me ; God, 
according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out 
my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine in- 
iquities, and cleanse me from my sins, for my sin is ever be- 
fore me. Against thee, thee only have I sinned, and done 
this evil in thy sight ; that thou mightest be justified when 
thou speakest, and clear when thou judgest.' 

" When I came to the words, ' Deliver me from blood- 
guiltiness,' I was struck dumb. I could not say anymore at 
that time. I fell upon my knees, and prayed to God to have 



200 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



His relief. Close of the convicts' stories. 

mercy upon me for Christ's sake. But I only grew more and 
more miserable. The load of my sins was heavier and 
heavier. 

"All that I had ever done came plain and open in my 
sight, and I was led to see that I must perish ; there was no 
help for me ; all my sin was upon my own head." 

Such is the miserable criminal's account of the sufTerinp: to 
which he was brought by the sense of guilt which the Bible 
was the means of fastening upon his soul. He continued in 
this state for some time, until at last, as he himself describes 
it, one day, when he was praying in his cell, his burden of 
guilt was removed. He felt that he might hope for pardon 
through Jesus Christ. The relief which this feeling brought 
over his mind seems to have been almost indescribable 
Every thing wore a new aspect ; even the gloomy prison 
seemed a cheerful and happy place. His expressions of joy 
would appear almost extravagant to any person not suffi- 
ciently acquainted with the human mind, to understand how 
the whole aspect of external objects will be controlled by the 
emotions which reign in the heart. William concluded his 
narration in these words : 

" And ever since that, master, this place where I have 
been confined, has been to me more like a, palace than a 
prison — every thing goes agreeable. I find I have a deceitful 
heart, but Jesus tells me, if I lack knowledge, he will always 
lend, if I cast my care on Jesus, and not forget to pray. It 
is my prayer morning and evening, that I may hold out. If 
I die here, let me die, Lord, in thine arms. I have great 
reason to bless this institution, and every stone in it." 

Now although it is not very common to obtain, in writing, 
accounts of changes of character among convicts so full and 
minute as this, yet the cases themselves are very common ; so 
common, that where a prison is regulated in such a manner 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



201 



Charlestown state prison. 



that the prisoners are not exposed to evil influence from each 
other, and the Bible has the opportunity to exert its power, 
the whole aspect of the prison is changed. After I had writ- 
ten the above, I was conversing upon the subject of this 
chapter with a gentleman much interested in the improve- 
ment of prisons, and he asked me if I had ever visited the 
prison at Charlestown, Massachusetts. I told him that I had 
not. " If you will go over with me, Sabbath morning," 
said he, " and visit the Sabbath School formed there, you 
will see the evidences of the moral power of the Bible fai 
more distinctly than you can by any such single descriptions 
as these." 

I of course gladly availed myself of the opportunity to 
accompany him. We walked accordingly on Sabbath 
morning, at the appointed hour, over one of those long 
bridges which connect the peninsula of Boston with the 




TO CHARLESTOWN, 



2QU YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Old building. Crowded night rooms. Arms. 

main land. The prison is situated in Charlestown, on a 
point of land near the Charles river. The yard extends 
to the water's edge, to afford facilities for lading and un- 
lading the boats which transport stone ; hammering stone for 
building being the principal business at which the convicts 
are employed. 

When we reached the outer gate of the prison yard we 
pushed it open, and on closing itself after we had entered, it 
struck a bell, which gave notice to the keeper of the inner 
gate that some one was coming. This inner gate, made of 
strong iron bars, was opened for us, and we passed up the 
steps of a large stone building, through which lay our 
passage to the yard beyond. This building consists of one 
large central edifice, which was occupied by the family of 
the warden and by some of the keepers, and of two exten- 
sive wings. In these wings the prisoners were formerly 
confined, in rooms of moderate size ; many convicts how- 
ever being lodged in one room. This was the old system of 
prison discipline, of which I have already spoken, and the 
prisoners almost invariably grew worse instead of better 
under it. A young man, perhaps, just beginning a career 
of vice, or overcome for the first time by some strong temp 
tation, was placed during the long hours of the night in one 
of these crowded rooms. Of course he grew worse by such 
an exposure. Those w T ho had grown old in sin instructed 
him in all their wicked arts. He became familiarized to 
infamy ; and even while under sentence for one crime, often 
formed plans for others, to be executed as soon as he should 
escape into society again. The consequence was, that these 
night rooms, in the wings of this great building, were, as 
they were often called, schools of vice and crime. 

The first room we entered in this edifice seemed to be a 
sort of an office, and a row of swords and guns, which were 
arranged there ready to be used at a moment's notice, pro- 



EVIDENCES O* CHRISTIANITV. 203 



Prison yard. Chapel. 

claimed the intention of the keepers to resort to the most 
decided measures if the prisoners should make any attempt 
to escape. We passed through this room, and one or two 
others, every narrow passage being guarded by a formidable 
door of iron, which a turnkey opened and shut for us as we 
passed. 

We entered a spacious and beautiful yard in the rear of 
this building. I say it was beautiful, because it struck the 
eye most pleasantly by its expression of neatness and indus- 
try. It was spacious, and extensive shops were arranged 
around it, in which the convicts were accustomed to work ; 
and upon the smooth and level surface of the area inclosed, 
were many large and beautiful blocks of hammered granite, 
the fruits of the prisoners' industry. 

We walked across the yard and came to a long stone 
building one story high, behind which rose another spacious 
edifice of stone. In this last were the prisoners' cells. I am 
not certain that I shall be able to convey to my young 
readers a very accurate idea of the arrangement and of the 
interior of these buildings, but I am very desirous of doing 
so, as it will give them clearer ideas of what I intend to 
present, in regard to the moral aspects of such an institution 
as this. Will you not' then make an effort to picture dis- 
tinctly to your minds what I am describing ? 

The long low building which I have mentioned, had a 
strong iron door in the center, and from that door a passage- 
way extended across to the great new prison beyond. On 
one side of this passage-way was a large room appropriated 
to preparing food for the prisoners, and on the other side 
was the chapel. When we came up to the iron door in the 
front of the building, we found several gentlemen, who had 
come over from Boston to act as teachers in the Sabbath 
School, waiting for admission. They were waiting until the 
prisoners themselves should have passed into the chapel ; fol 



2U4 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Prisoners k'oing to Sabbath School. Aspect of the school. Prisoners' dreae. 

when we arrived, they were coming in a long procession 
from their cells in the rear, into this building, each one 
bringing the tin vessel from which he had eaten his break- 
fast, and laying it upon a sort of counter as he passed on into 
the chapel. We could see this by looking through an open- 
ing in the iron door. 

When all the prisoners had gone into the chapel, the 
outer door was opened by a keeper, and we all passed in ; 
the heavy door was swung to behind us, and its strong bolt 
secured. We turned from the entry into that end of the 
building which was used as a chapel. There was an aisle 
passing up the center, on each side of which were seats 
half filled with the convicts. The chaplain stood in a 
pulpit at the farther end, and on each side of him were the 
teachers, gentlemen from Boston, who had come to assist 
these unhappy men to read and to understand the word of 
God. 

It was a most delightful May morning, and the whole 
aspect of the room, as I looked over it from my stand near 
the chaplain, was that of cheerfulness and happiness, not of 
gloom. The sun beamed in brightly at the windows, and 
the walls of the room, which were of the purest white, the 
neat benches, and the nicely sanded floor, gave a most pleas- 
ant aspect to the whole scene. 

The congregation presented a singular and striking appear- 
ance. Had it not been for their dress I might have forgotten 
that I was in a prison. But they were all dressed in coarse 
clothes of two colors, one side of the body being red, and the 
other of some different hue. This is the uniform of crime. 
The object of it is, I suppose, not to mortify the men with a 
perpetual badge of disgrace, but only to put a public mark 
upon them, so that if any one should by any means escape, 
he might be immediately detected by the inhabitants of xhe 
country around. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANIT IT. 20 1\ 

ia^rcises. A cliiss. 

"Is it possible," thought I, as I looked over this strange 
assembly, "that all these men have come voluntarily this 
morning to read and study the word of God?" Yes, that 
was the fact. This exercise was entirely voluntary ; and 
out of two or three hundred who had been condemned for 
crime, about one half were accustomed to come thus, of their 
own accord, on Sabbath morning to study the book which 
proclaims from heaven free forgiveness of every sin. 

The chaplain opened the school with prayer. He then 
explained to the teachers that the plan to be pursued was 
simply to hear the prisoners read the Bible, and explain its 
contents to them. He desired them to confine their conver- 
sation strictly to the business in hand, and requested the 
prisoners not to ask, and the teachers not to answer, any 
questions relating to other subjects. He then distributed the 
teachers around the room, giving each one a small class. 
Three convicts fell to my charge. 

I opened almost at random in the New Testament, and 
let them read in rotation ; and more apparently humble and 
docile students of the Bible I never saw. They read slowly 
and with hesitation, and I thought at first, with a little 
embarrassment ; this however soon passed away, and it was 
most interesting to watch the eager expression upon their 
countenances as the various truths which were such glald 
tidings to them came in view. We came almost accident- 
ally to the parables of the one sheep and the one piece of 
money which was lost, related in the fifteenth chapter of the 
gospel according to St. Luke. It seemed, in fact, as if the 
whole chapter was written expressly for prisoners. 

One of these convicts, after expressing a strong interest 
in these parables, said that the Bible appeared like a very 
different book to him now, from what it did in former 
times. 

" How did it formerly appear to you ?" asked I. 



206 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Conversation with a convict. Power of the Bible. 

" 0, I used to despise it. I used to wonder why so much 
was made of the Bible. It seemed to me that I could write 
as good a book myself." 

" Well, are your views of it changed now ?" 

11 yes," said he, "I am now fully persuaded it is the 
word of God." 

"What caused you to disbelieve it formerly? was it the 
influence of bad company ?" 

" Why, sir, to be frank, it was ignorance. I had not 
studied it. I had read it a little here and there, but not at- 
tentively, or with a right spirit." 

" What led you to change your views of it ?" 

" I did not change my views until I came to this institu- 
tion. I had some days of solitary confinement when I first 
came, with no book but the Bible ; and when I first began 
to reflect, I recollected that a Christian family whom I once 
lived with, seemed to enjoy more real, substantial happiness 
than any other persons I ever saw ; and this led me to think 
there might possibly be something in religion. So I thought I 
would examine the Bible in earnest, and I found it a very 
different book from what I had supposed. I took a very 
strong interest in it, and at last a minister preached a sermon 
here from the text, ' What shall I do to inherit eternal life?' 
and that, I hope, led me to the Savior. I hope and trust 
that I have really given my heart to God." 

I told him that what he said gavo me great pleasure, and 
that I hoped he would persevere in Christian duty, and find 
the Bible a source of happiness to him as long as he should live. 

" When I first came to this institution," he replied, " I 
thought it was rather a hard case to be sjiut up here so long. 
My time is, however, now almost out. In a few weeks I 
shall go away ; but if I have really been led to see and for- 
sake my sins, I shall never have any reason to regret coming 
here " 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 207 

Reformation of prisoners. Cases numerous. Temperance sermon. 

The chaplain about this time gave notice that it was time 
for the services to be closed, and I could not converse with 
my other scholars much. One of them told me, however, 
that he had been brought up by pious parents, and had read 
the Bible when he was a child. " It was, however, " said 
he, " only to please my parents. I gave no heed to it. I 
have found it, since I came to this institution, a very differ- 
ent book." 

I afterward learned that there was as much reason as, 
under the circumstances, there could be, to hope that all three 
of these criminals had really repented of sin, and obtained 
peace with God, and that they would return to society to be 
useful and happy while they live, and be admitted to heaven 
when they die. Such cases as these, too, are becoming very 
numerous in prisons, where the convicts are separated from each 
other, and brought under the influence of the word of God. 

But I must proceed with the description of my visit : At 
the close of the Sabbath-school, the convicts who had attended 
it marched out, and presently returned with all the other 
prisoners in a long procession, to attend public worship ; they 
filled the chapel. The preacher addressed them on the sub- 
ject of temperance ; and as he explained to them the nature 
of ardent spirit, and the consequences of its use, they listened 
with the most eager and uninterrupted attention. Each had 
his Bible under his arm — his only companion in his soli 
tary cell — and it was evident, I thought, from the counte- 
nances of the whole assembly, that in the hour of stillness 
and solitude, it had been at work upon the conscience of 
many a hardened sinner there. It seemed impossible for a 
man to look upon that assembly, understanding their circum- 
stances, and knowing how exclusively the Bible had been 
used as the means of restoring them to moral health, and 
how successful it had been, and yet doubt whether the book 
was really from God. 



208 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Marching to tho cells. Construction of the prison. 

After the meeting was closed, the prisoners marched by 
divisions in regular order, each under the care of a keeper, 
back to the great building in the rear, which contained theii 
cells. As they passed through the entry, each one took from 
the place where he had left it, the tin vessel containing his 
evening meal, and they walked in long procession to their 
silent and solitary lodgings. We followed them into the 
building. Its construction is peculiar ; and as it is similar 
to those now very generally built for prisoners, I shall de- 
scribe it. 

It contains a building within a building — the outer one 
being a mere shell, consisting of walls and a roof, with rows 
of narrow, grated windows in the sides. The inner building 
is distinct and independent, with a passage several feet wide 
all around between it and the outer walls. This inner 
building is simply a block of cells, four or five stories high, 
arranged back to back, so that the doors open on each side 
into the passage-way I have already described. The doors, 
however, of the loiver story only, can be entered from the 
floor of the passage-way itself, and to gain access to the 
others, long narrow galleries supported by iron pillars, pro- 
ject from each story. A staircase at one end leads the way 
to these. 

There were no windows to the cells, except a grated open- 
ing in the narrow but heavy iron door ; and this, it will be 
perceived, did not furnish an access to the open air, for the 
outer building entirely inclosed the inner one like a case. 
Sufficient light, however, found its way through the outer 
windows, and thence through the grated door, to cheer the 
prisoner a little in his solitude, and to allow him to read the 
pages of the word of God. 

When we came into the passage-way below, the trains of 
prisoners were passing along the galleries, and entering, one 
after another, their respective cells- Each one closed aftei 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 209 
_ ^ — — — — — 

The buildings. Construction of the ceils. 

him the massive door, and there was something peculiarly 
solemn and impressive in the heavy sound, produced in regu- 
lar succession, as door after door closed upon the unfortunate 
inmates. The keepers passed along after the prisoners of 
their respective divisions had entered their cells, and locked 
them in ; and then, after the last party-colored dress had 
disappeared, and the last bolt sounded to its place, the keep- 
ers one after another returned, and all was silence and appar- 
ent solitude. 

Though it was now the middle of a bright May afternoon, 
it was but twilight within these walls — the twilight of a 
prison — and so still, that one could hardly realize that within 
the sound of his voice more than two hundred criminals 
were confined. And yet they were within the sound of one 
voice ; for the construction of these buildings is such, that 
every prisoner can hear the chaplain when conducting reli- 
gious services in the passage-way. He stands there, not see- 
ing an individual whom he addresses — nothing before him 
but the cold repulsive aspect of granite walls and floor, and 
pillars, doors, and locks of iron — and reads the chapter, and 
offers the evening prayer in the hearing of hundreds ; and 
each prisoner, alone in his cell, seated upon his little bench, 
hears through the grated window the voice of one unseen, 
explaining to him the word of God, or guiding him in his 
supplications for the forgiveness of his sins, and preparation 
for heaven. 

As we stood contemplating this scene, one of the officers 
of the prison standing there, said to my companion, 

" How different this is from what we used to see and hear 
in the old prison !" 

"Has there been," asked I, "a very decided change in 
the aspect of the prisoners since their removal to this build- 
m S V 

" yes," said he, " every thing is changed. Why, when 



210 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Armed keeper. 



The Bible the meant. 



they occupied the old building and were locked up, several 
together in a room, there was nothing but cursing and swear- 
ing, and riot, and quarreling, and blasphemy, to be heard all 
night. How they would rave against religion and the Bible 
and ministers ! Nothing would have tempted me to have 
remained an officer in the prison if that state of things had 
continued. Now it is a quiet and peaceable family. " 

We ourselves came 
out last. A keeper, 
with a sword at his 
side and a pistol at his 
belt, closed and locked 
the door after us, and 
we passed through the 
yard, and through the 
great edifice which 1 
first described, out be«- 
yond the prison walls, 
and returned to our 
homes. 

Now if there was 
any one thing which 
stood forth to view in 
all this scene more dis- 
tinctly and vividly than all the rest, it was that these effects 
were the work of the Bible. The very essence of the whole 
system is simply to cut off the bad influences which would 
otherwise gain access to the prisoner, and lay before him the 
Bible. This was done with kindness and sympathy indeed, 
but still the word of God was most evidently the remedy 
which was applied. The prisoners came to their place of 
worship with their Bibles in their hands — the teachers in 
the Sabbath School confined their efforts to reading and ex- 
plaining the sacred book — and it was affecting to observe. 




^-3 



SAFE KEEPING 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 211 

Analysis of the ccnvicts' stories. 1. Bible the means. 

that as they went to their solitary cells, they found there the 
word of God for their only companion. So unquestionable 
is the moral power of this book, that the very authorities of 
the State, actuated by a desire to save the community from 
the injuries of wicked men, place a Bible, at the public ex- 
pense, in the cell of every convict committed for crime. 

Those little cells, so small that the narrow bed, when let 
down at night, leaves the prisoner scarce room to stand — 
destitute of almost every comfort, and showing by their 
whole aspect, that their design is to connect the most 
gloomy associations possible with the idea of crime — every- 
one of those narrow and naked cells must have its Bible. 
Every legislator knows that that is the book to call back the 
guilty criminal from his sins. And though men may, in 
speculation, deny its authority and question its influence in 
practice, — when they wish to awaken conscience in the 
abandoned, and to recall them so far at least to duty that 
society may be safe from their crimes, they are unanimous 
in invoking its aid. 

But I must return to the two convicts' stories. I did not 
intend to have digressed so far from them. My readers are 
requested to recall those narratives to mind, for I wish to 
analyze them a little, that I may present more distinctly the 
nature of the process by which convalescence and ultimate 
health returns to a sin-sick soul ; for I wish to consider these 
not in the light of detached and separate instances, but as 
fair specimens of cases which are constantly occurring by 
tens of thousands in Christian lands. 

I should like to have you notice the following points, 
which are brought to view by those narratives. 

1. The Bible tvas the means of the change. One of the 
convicts said he had no proper views of the Scriptures till he 
came to the prison ; the other could not read them at all ; 



212 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



2. Sins against God. Story of the incendiary. 

and it was plainly by means of this book that they both were 
brought to understand their true characters. So at Charles- 
town. The whole plan relied upon for the moral reforma- 
tion of these outcasts consisted simply in bringing the truths 
of the word of God before their minds. There was in one 
of the classes in the prison a convict who had been repeat- 
edly imprisoned, having been confined once or twice in the 
old building. " And," said he, "it only made me worse 
But now there is a new state of things. When I came to 
this prison, I found nothing but my Bible, and I believe it 
has made me a new man/' The gentleman who had taught 
that class, said that this prisoner gave every evidence which 
could be given in so short a time, of being a humbled, re- 
newed man. 

2. Men are led by the Bible to see that their sins are 
committed against God. This you will perceive to be very 
strikingly the case, from a review of the convicts' stories. 
And this is one of the great peculiarities of the Scriptures. 
They lead us to see that we owe obligations to our Maker ; 
a truth that is always neglected or forgotten till the Biblo 
brings it to view. 

But what is the meaning of xmr sins being against God ? 
I once knew a boy so abandoned to evil passions, and so 
utterly destitute of moral principle, that he set fire to his 
mother's house, in a fit of anger with her for some reproof 
or punishment. I do not know whether he intended to burn 
it entirely, or whether he expected that the fire would bo 
extinguished, and he should thus only frighten his mother. 
A great deal of injury was in fact done by the fire, though it 
was at last extinguished. Now the boy very probably sup- 
posed this offense was against his mother alone. He knew 
that he was responsible to her authority, and thought of no. 
thing more. 

How surprised then would he be if some friend ct 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 213 

His ignorance of the law of the land. 

his, after he had done this, should converse with him as 
follows : 

" Do you know what you have done ?" 

" Yes, I set my mother's house on fire." 

" And what do you expect will be the consequence ?" 

" Why, perhaps she will punish me ; hut I don't care for 
that." 

"I think you will find that that is not the worst of it." 

" What is the worst of it ?" 

" Why you have broken the law of the land, and I expect 
every hour that the officers will be after you to arrest you." 

" The officers !" says the boy astonished and alarmed : " I 
didn't know any thing about the law of the land." 

" There is a law of the land, you will find, and you have 
broken it, and they will have you tried and put in State's 
Prison for it." 

At this the boy would perhaps pause and turn pale, and 
his next word would probably either be, "I don't believe it," 
or else, " What shall I do ?" Perhaps he would attempt to 
excuse himself by saying, 

" I did not know that it was against any law — I only did 
it to plague my mother." 

"That makes no difference," his friend would reply, 
"it will not help you at all. The law of every community 
is, and ought to be, very decided against incendiaries, be- 
cause, as you well know, when you set fire to your mother's 
house, you endangered the others near, and in fact the 
whole village. As to your not knowing that it was against 
the law, that makes no difference ; you knew that it was 
wrong." 

I do not know whether this boy learned that he had 
broken the law, and was in great danger of punishment, by 
any such conversation as the above. I know however that 
he learned it in some way, and he fled ; he escaped to a 



214 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Voice of the Bible. 



distant city, but the officers found him there ; and I saw hirn 
afterward confined in his cell. 

Now when men sin in this world they almost always 
forget the very important circumstance, that they are sin- 
ning against God. They look upon their offenses as com- 
mitted solely against their fellow-men ; they feel sometimes 
a little compunction in regard to those few cases where their 
conduct has injured their fellows ; they never consider these 
as offenses against a far higher law ; and as to all their other 
conduct, they feel entirely at ease in regard to it. 

Now the Bible comes in in such cases, and where its voice 
is heeded, it holds with men much such a conversation 
as that which I have described between the boy and his 
friend. 

"Do you know," it says to one who has been living an 
irreligious life for many years, " what you have been 
doing?" 

" Yes," he replies, " I have very often done wrong. I 
have sometimes been idle and sometimes a little passionate ; 
but then I have endeavored to make up for lost time by 
subsequent industry, and I have always repaired all the 
injuries of every kind that I have done to others. On the 
whole, I have been a good neighbor and an honest man. I 
have been kind in my family, and upright as a citizen." 

" Ah !" says the Bible, " do you not know that there is a 
God, and that, by utterly neglecting him, you have been all 
the time unceasingly breaking his lata? You have been 
living for yourself, detached and separate from all around 
you, except so far as your interests or instinctive feelings 
have formed a frail tie. What a divided and miserable 
community would be the result, if all God's creatures were 
to act upon the same principle !" 

" Besides," continues the word of God, " the sins of which 
you acknowledge that you have been guilty, and which you 



EVIDENCE? OF CHRISTIANITY. 215 



3. Feeling awakened. A slumbering sense o guilt. 



seem to consider as commuted chiefly against men, are in a 
far higher sense against God. They are violations of his 
law, and he has annexed a most awful penalty to such 
transgressions. In fact, it is possible that some of his officers 
are now sent for you, to summon you to trial and condemna- 
tion for your sins." 

Thus men are led to see by the Bible wliat laio they have 
broken, and what punishment they have to fear. The con- 
vict, whose conversation I have above given, saw, as he ex- 
presess it, that all his sins had b.ien "against God." 

3. The Bible makes men feei their guilt. Undoubtedly 
many of my readers will go over ihe explanation I have just 
given of our connection with God, and of the fact that all 
our sins are against him, very carelessly. They will not 
realize the truth, in its application to them. Nothing is 
more common than for persons to see tr.d to acknowledge the 
truths whieh I have been presenting, without feeling any 
compunction for their guilt. But the Bible arouses con- 
science ; it is " quick and powerful, sharper than any two- 
edged sword, piercing even to the dividing vsAhdei the soul 
and spirit." 

It is one of the most remarkable propertieG of the human 
mind, that a consciousness of guilt may remain a long time 
dormant in it — producing no uneasiness and no rmiTerlng — 
and yet, after the lapse of years, it will burst forth with most 
terrific power, and drive the victim of it to actual despair. 
This has often been the case. A man who has committed 
sin, is like one bitten by a mad dog. The momentary paiu 
is slight- — the wound soon heals ; it may keep up from tirnr 
to time a slight irritation, just enough to remind him occa 
sionally of the occurrence ; but ordinarily it is forgotten, and 
he goes on with his daily amusements and pleasures entirely 
unconscious of danger. 

But though the wound is healed, the dreadful infection 



21b YOUN^ CHRISTIAN. 



Sin will sting at last. 



which it has admitted to his system, is circulating insidiously 
there. The poison glides imperceptibly along his veins and 
arteries for weeks, months, years. It does not mar his enjoy- 
ments, or disturb his repose ; but still the dreadful enemy, 
though slumbering, is there. At last, in some unexpected 
hour, it rises upon him in all its strength, and overwhelms 
and conquers him entirely. It brings agony to his body and 
indescribable horror to his soul, and hurries him through the 
most furious paroxysms of madness and despair to inevitable 
death. 

And it is just so with sin. A murderer, for example, will 
often slumber ten, twenty, or thirty years over his crime. 
The knowledge of it will be in his heart like a lurking 
poison, during all that time. He will recollect it without 
anxiety or compunction, and look forward to the future with- 
out alarm. At last, however, some circumstance, often 
apparently trifling, will awaken him ; he will begin to feel 
his guilt ; conscience will suddenly rise upon him like an 
armed man, and overwhelm him with all the horrors of 
remorse and despair. Perhaps, if one had tried a few weeks 
before to make him feel his. guilt, it would have been in vain, 
he was so utterly hardened in it — so jdead in trespasses and 
sins ; but now you will find it far more difficult to allay or 
to mitigate the storm, which has, perhaps spontaneously, 
arisen. 

Every person, therefore, who commits sin, takes a viper 
into his bosom — a viper, which may delay stinging him for 
many years — but it ivill sting him at last, unless it is 
removed. He may be unaware of the misery that awaits 
him — but it must come notwithstanding. This is particu- 
larly the case with sins against God ; and the wonder is, 
that the sense of guilt will remain so entirely dormant as it 
often does, so that no warning, no expostulation, no remon- 
strance will disturb the death-like repose ; and yet at last 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 217 

4. The Savior. Penance. 



the volcano will often burst forth spontaneously, or from 
some apparently trifling cause, and overwhelm the sinner in 
suffering. 

Now we certainly should not wish that this suffering 
should come upon any individual, were it not that in a 
vast multitude of cases it leads him to repent of a?id to 
j or sake his sins. Remorse is not penitence, it is true, but it 
very frequently conducts to it. 

4. The Bible leads men to a Savior. Men everywhere 
have the impression that penitence is not enough to remove 
and expiate guilt. Whenever we do wrong, there is im- 
planted, as it were in the very soul, a fearful looking forward 
to punishment to come in consequence of it. "We know that 
no government can be efficiently maintained where its set- 
tled regular plan is to forgive always upon confession. 
Now it is found by universal experience — and the cases 
which I have narrated happily illustrate this — that when men 
are really brought to feel their sins against God, they can not 
be quieted by any general assurances that God is merciful. 
They know that he is merciful, but then they know too that 
he is just. They know that he is the great moral Governor 
of the universe ; and the youngest child, or the most igno- 
rant" savage, has an instinct, I might almost call it, which 
so assures him of the necessity of a retribution, that he can 
not rest, after a repeated disobedience, in the hope that his 
penitence alone will secure his pardon. Hence, in all un- 
christian countries men have various ways of doing penance, 
that is, inflicting severe voluntary suffering upon themselves 
by way of retribution for their sins. Now when men, under 
such circumstances, hear that a Savior has died for them, it 
brings relief. It is very often the case that there is not a 
very clear idea of the way in which his sufferings are of avail 
in opening the way for pardon ; in fact, it is not absolutely 
necessary that there should be very clear ideas on this 

K 



218 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Forgiveness on mere penitence. Story of IteguluB. 



subject. The mind, however darkened and ignorant, is 
capable of seeing that these sufferings may in some way 
arrest the evil consequences of its sins, and open the way for 
pardon, and yet not fully understand in all their detail the 
various moral influences which the crucifixion of the Son of 
God is calculated to produce. 

My reader, do you feel a secret but continual burden from 
a sense of your sins ? Try the experiment of coming and 
asking forgiveness in the Savior's name, and see if it does not 
bring relief. 

I suppose that most of my readers remember the story of 
Regulus. The ancient cities of Rome and Carthage stood 
opposite to each other, across the Mediterranean Sea. As 
these two cities grew up to power and distinction nearly 
together, they were the rivals and enemies of each other, 
There was many a hard-fought battle between their armies 
and their fleets. 

At last, Regulus, a celebrated Roman general, was sent 
across the sea to carry the war if possible to the very gates 
of Carthage. He was at first very successful, and he took 
many prisoners and sent them to Rome. At length, how- 
ever, the scale was turned, the Roman army was conquered, 
and Regulus himself was captured and thrown into a Car- 
thaginian prison. 

After some time had elapsed, the Carthaginians, foreseeing 
that the Roman power, notwithstanding their temporary suc- 
cesses, would in the end overwhelm their own, concluded to 
send an embassy to Rome to offer peace. They proposed to 
Regulus to go on this embassy. They intrusted to him the 
commission, saying to him, " We wish you to go to Rome 
and propose to your countrymen to make peace with us, and 
endeavor to persuade them to comply. If you do not suc- 
ceed, however, we expect you to return to us again as our 
lawful prisoner. We shall confide in your word." 



EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 219 

War between Rome and Carthage. Regains as ambassador. 

Regains accepted the trust. He set off to Rome, promis- 
ing to return to Carthage if the Romans should not accede 
to the peace. He sailed across the sea and up the Tiber, 
and was soon approaching the gates of the great city. He 
had determined, however, to do all in his power to prevent 
a peace, knowing that it would not be for the interest of his 
country to make one. He understood, therefore, that he was 
going to his native city only to communicate his message, 
and then to return to imprisonment, torture, and death, at 
Carthage. 

His wife came out of the gates to meet him, rejoicing in 
his return. He received her, dejected, silent and sad. " I 
am a Carthaginian prisoner still," said he, ' : and must soon 
return to my chains." 

He refused to enter the city. He had indeed a message 
lor the senate, but the Roman senate was not accustomed to 
admit foreigners to their sessions within the city. He sent 
them word, therefore, that Regulus, no longer a Roman gen- 
eral, but a Carthaginian prisoner, was the bearer of a mes- 
sage to them, and wished them to hold, as usual, a meeting 
without the gates for the purpose of receiving it. 

The senate came. They heard the proposal which the 
Carthaginians sent, and the arguments of Regulus against 
it. The arguments prevailed. They decided against peace, 
and Regulus began to speak of his return. 

" Return !" said his friends, and the senators, and all the 
people of Rome ; " you are under no obligation to return to 
Carthage." 

M I promised to return," said Regulus, " and I must keep 
my word. I am well aware that the disappointed and ex- 
asperated Carthaginians will inflict upon me cruel tortures, 
but I am their prisoner still, and I must keep my word." 

The Romans made every exertion in their power to per- 
suade Regulus that a promise extorted under such circum* 



220 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Death of Regulus. Cruel retaliation. Supposed case. 

stances was not binding, and that he could be under no ob- 
ligations to return. But all was vain. He bade the senate, 
and his countrymen, and his wife farewell, and was soon 
Bailing back to the land of his enemies. The Carthaginians 
were enraged at the result of his mission. They put him to 
death by the most cruel tortures. * 

When the tidings of his death came back to Rome, the 
senate and the people, who had already been much impressed 
by the patriotism of Regulus and his firm adherence to his 
word, were overwhelmed with admiration and gratitude. 
This feeling was mixed too with a strong desire for revenge 
upon the Carthaginians, and a decree was passed, giving up 
the Carthaginian prisoners then in their hands to Marcia, 
the wife of Regulus, to be disposed of as she might desire. 
She most unjustly and cruelly ordered them all to be put to 
death by the same sufferings which her lamented husband 
had endured. 

My story, thus far, is substantially true. The dialogue I 
have given is intended to exhibit the substance of what was 
said, not the exact words. The facts, hov/ever, are correctly 
stated. The whole occurrence is matter of history. 

In order, however, to make the use of this story which I 
have intended, I must now go on in fiction. I will suppose 
that Marcia, instead of desiring to gratify a revengeful spirit 
by destroying the lives of the innocent prisoners at Rome, hi 
retaliation for the murder of her husband, had been actuated 
by a nobler spirit, and had sent such a message as this to the 
Roman senate, in reply to their proposal to her : 

" I do not wish for revenge. It will do no good, either to 
Regulus who is dead, or to his unhappy widow who survives, 
to torture or to destroy the miserable captives in our hands. 
Dispose of them as the good of the state requires. If you 
think, however, that any thing is due from the common- 
wealth to the memory of Regulus or to his surviving friends, 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 321 



Forgiveness of criminals for Regulus' sake. 



let it be paid in happiness, not in suffering. There are in 
the public prisons many miserable convicts condemned for 
their crimes ; let them be forgiven for Regulus' sake, if they 
will acknowledge their crimes and return to their duty." 

A Roman senate would have undoubtedly granted such a 
request as this, if made under such circumstances as I have 
described. Let us suppose that they had done so, and that 
the prison doors had been opened, and the offers of pardon 
had been circulated among the convicts there. 

Now I wish my reader to bear in mind that I am not in 
tending here to offer an illustration of the way in which our 
salvation is effected by the sufferings of the Son of God ; no 
analogy drawn from any earthly transactions, can fully illus- 
trate the way in which the Lamb of God taketh away the 
sins of the world. My object is to illustrate the spirit with 
which the offer of mercy through Him is to be received, and 
I have made this supposition for the purpose of placing these 
prisoners in a situation somewhat like that of condemned sin- 
ners in this world, that I may show how the Bible brings re- 
lief to those suffering under the burden of sin, by offering 
them mercy through a Savior. 

A messenger comes then, we will suppose, among the im- 
prisoned malefactors, and announces the glad tidings that he 
brings to them — an offer of pardon from the Roman senate. 
The prisoners look incredulous. They know that the Roman 
government is an efficient one, and that it is accustomed to 
execute its laws. " We are justly imprisoned," they would 
say, " and our time is not yet expired. There can be no for- 
giveness for us till the law sets us free." 

? The messenger then relates to them, that in consequence 
of the distinguished services and subsequently cruel sufferings 
of a great Roman general, the senate had wished to make to 
his widow some public expression of the sympathy and grati- 
tude of the commonwealth, and that she had asked it as a 



222 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Its effects in prison. 



boon, that every penitent prisoner, willing to abandon hii 
crimes and return to bis duty, might be set free for her hus 
band's sake. 

Now unquestionably, if there were any among these pris- 
oners who were really penitent for sin and willing to return 
to duty, their abhorrence of their crimes would be increased 
and their determination to be faithful citizens in future would 
be strengthened, by receiving such an offer of pardon, Nay, 
it would not be surprising if some who were still hardened in 
their sins, and even in the midst of noise and revelry in the 
prison at the very time the messenger appeared, should be 
arrested, and their feelings touched by such an address. . 

" How different, " they might reflect, "is the conduct of 
Regulus from ours ! "We have been, by our vices and crimes 
bringing injuries without number upon our country. He, by 
his labors and sufferings, has been unceasingly endeavoring 
to do her good ; and Marcia, too — it was kind in her to think 
of us. When we were at liberty, we thought only of grati- 
fying our ow r n passions ; we made no effort to promote the 
happiness of others, or to diminish their sufferings ; we will re- 
turn to our duty, and imitate the example they have set for us." 

It would not be surprising if such a transaction had 
awakened these reflections in some minds ; and on the 
whole, the effect of the offer of mercy through Jesus Christ 
produces very similar effects in the world, to those I have 
here imagined in the prison. When men are told in general 
terms, that God is merciful and will forgive their sins, it 
does not in ordinary cases really relieve them. Though per- 
haps they do not say it distinctly, yet they feel that God's 
government, to be efficient, must have strict law r s, and pen- 
alties strictly executed ; and they are afraid that a mere re- 
liance on God's general mercy may not be quite safe. 
Thousands trust to this till they come to their, dying hour, 
and then abandon it. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 22S 

The effects of the Gospel the same. The penitent convict 

But when men are told, by the word of God, that Jesus 
Christ died for them — the just for the unjust — and that 
they must come, asking forgiveness in his name and for his 
sake, it throws a different aspect over the whole case : a 
bright gleam of hope from a new and unexpected quarter 
darts in. Though they may not know fully in ivhat ivay 
the sufferings of Christ may be the means of opening the 
way for their forgiveness, they still can see that it is very pos- 
sible it may in some way do this. It is not necessary that 
we should understand fully the way. The convicts might 
be released without knowing all about the story of Regulus, 
or comprehending exactly how such a transaction as their 
release on his account would affect the public mind in Rome, 
so as to obviate the evil effects of laxity in the administration 
of public justice. There might be many a poor ignorant 
prisoner who could not comprehend such subjects at all, and 
yet who might possess the spirit of mind which should bring 
him most fully within the conditions of release. Such an 
one might come to the officer appointed for the purpose, and 
say, 

" I am very grateful to the Roman senate for offering to 
pardon me for the sake of Regulus ; I was really guilty of 
the crime for which I was sentenced, and the term of my im- 
prisonment is not longer than I justly deserve ; but I am 
glad to be restored to freedom and to happiness now. I shall 
always be grateful to the senate, and shall cherish the mem- 
ory of Regulus as long as I live." 

Now, if a prisoner had this spirit, there is no question that 
he would be released, whether he was or was not statesman 
or philosopher enough to understand fully the moral character 
and influence of such a transaction. And so, my reader, if 
you are willing to acknowledge and to forsake your sins, and 
to accept of freedom and happiness in future, on account of 
another's merits and sufferings, you need not distress yourself 



224 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The penitent sinner. The prisoners. 

because you do not fully comprehend the nature of that great 
transaction of which Gethsemane and Calvary were the 
scene. It can not be fully understood here. From the win- 
dows of our prison-house in this world, we can see but a small 
part of the great city of God. We can not appreciate fully 
any of the plans of his government ; we can, however, take 
the right position in respect to ourselves. We can ask for- 
giveness in Christ's name, and believe, on the authority of 
God's word, that God has set forth Jesus Christ to be a pro- 
pitiation for us, that we might be saved through faith in 
his blood— that is, by our trusting in his sufferings — that 
God might be just, and yet save those who trust in the 
Savior.^ 

But to return to the Roman prison. I have represented 
one prisoner as accepting the offer, and going out to freedom 
in consequence of it. Let us now suppose that the public 
officer, appointed by the senate to carry the message to the 
prisoners, and to receive their replies, should meet in one of 
the rooms a very different reception. He passes, we will 
suppose, along a dark passage-way, until he comes to the 
door of a gloomy dungeon ; the keeper removes the heavy 
rusty bars, and unbolts and unlocks the door, and as he 
opens it, he hears the unexpected sounds of mirth and revelry 
within . 

As he enters, he sees the wretched-looking inmates lying 
around the cold stone floor upon their beds of straw. In a 
corner sit some with wild and haggard looks, relating to each 
other, with noisy but unnatural mirth, the profane jest or im- 
moral story. In the middle of the room, two are quarreling 
for a morsel of food, which each claims, filling the air with 
their dreadful oaths and imprecations. Near the door lies a 
miserable object half covered in his tattered garment, and 
endeavoring in vain to get a little sleep. A small grated 
* See Romans iii. 28-26. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 22A 

The offer rejected. 

window high in the wall admits a dim light, just sufficient 
to reveal to view the ohjects which compose this scene of 
vice and misery. 

The quarrelers and the rioters pause a moment, each re< 
taining his attitude, and listening while the messenger from 
the senate lays before them the offer of forgiveness and free- 
dom. They gaze upon him for a few minutes with vacant 
looks, but before he has fairly finished his message, the angry 
combatants re-commence their war — the story-teller in the 
corner goes on with his narrative — the sleeper composes him- 
self again to rest — and perhaps some fierce and angry-looking 
criminal comes up to the messenger and says, in a stern voice, 
" Away ! you have no business here." 

Do you think that these prisoners would be liberated for 
the sake of Regulus ? HSTo ! the bolts and bars must be closed 
upon them again, and they must bear their sentence to the 
full. And this is precisely the way in which multitudes re- 
ceive the offers of forgiveness through Jesus Christ. 

Once more. Suppose this messenger were to meet, in some 
part of the prison, one of the convicts walking back and forth 
alone in his cell, and should repeat to him the story which 
he was commissioned to bring. 

" Forgiveness for the sake of Regulus !" says he, with a 
tone of scorn ; "I want no forgiveness on account of another ; 
you have no right to shut me up .here for any thing that I 
have done ; it is unjust and cruel. I demand release on my 
own account — without any condition or any acknowledgment 
of my dependence for it upon the merits of another.' , 

Now, if the messenger should meet with the exhibition of 
such a spirit as this, he would turn away and close the bolts 
and bars of the prison again upon such a convict, and seek 
subjects of mercy elsewhere. God, too, requires of us all a 
humble and subdued spirit, and willingness to accept of par- 
don in the name of Jesus Christ, who died for us. We 



* 



226 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Grateful acceptance of the offer. Object of this illustration. 

must come with the spirit which I first described — the spirit 
of the convict who said, 

" I am grateful to the Roman senate for offering to pardon 
me for the sake of Regulus. I was really guilty of the crime 
for which I was sentenced, and the term of my imprisonment 
is not longer than I justly deserve. But I am glad to he re- 
stored to freedom and happiness now. I shall always be 
grateful to the senate, and shall cherish the memory of Reg- 
ulus as long as I live." 

Before dismissing this illustration, I wish to remind my 
readers again, that I have been endeavoring to exhibit by it 
the spirit of mind with which we ought to receive the offer 
of mercy through Jesus Christ, not the nature of the atone- 
ment which he has made for sin. The case I have imagined 
could not safely occur in any human government, because 
there would be no way of ascertaining who among the con- 
victs were truly penitent, and were really determined on 
leading a life of virtue in future. Several other difficulties, 
which in God's government do not exist, are unavoidable in 
every human empire. The spirit of mind with which the 
offer of free forgiveness in Jesus' name is welcomed or re- 
fused, is all which I design by this illustration to explain. If 
the heart is really ready to acknowledge its guilt, and willing 
to accept of pardon which it does not deserve, the offer of a 
Savior is most admirably calculated to restore peace of con- 
science, and heal the wounded spirit. And nothing but the 
Bible can make such an offer. Thus one of the most power- 
ful means by which it changes character, is awakening the 
sensibilities of the heart, through the exhibition of a Savior 
crucified for our sins, and leading us to feel that we may be 
forgiven, and the obligation and authority of the law we have 
broken be yet sustained. 

5. These changes of character are often attended with 
strong excitement^ and sometimes with mental delusion. My 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 227 

Excitement and delusion. Anecdote of Brinley 

readers recollect that the first convict saw at one time a 
black coffin, according to his statement ; and at another, 
he was addressed by an audible voice in his cell, assuring 
him that his sins were pardoned. These two circumstances 
were what chiefly induced me to insert that narrative, that 
I might bring up distinctly this point, namely, that the 
changes of character produced by the Bible are often at- 
tended with mental delusion in little things, especially among 
those minds that have been but little disciplined by phil- 
osophical thought. I could not have a fair specimen with- 
out including an example of this. 

The human mind is so constituted, as all who have studied 
its nature are fully aware, that when any subject of great 
interest, or any strong emotion, takes possession of it, it 
operates immediately upon the body, producing sometimes 
animal excitement, and sometimes delusions of the senses. 
So that these very delusions, and this very bodily excitement, 
prove the greatness and the reality of the emotions of heart 
which have occasioned them. If a man becomes very much 
interested in any scheme, how likely he is to become enthu- 
siastic in it ! And this enthusiasm the public usually con- 
sider as 'proving, not disproving, his sincerity. It indicates 
the strength of the interest which he feels. It is astonishing 
what extravagances people will put up with from men en- 
gaged in the prosecution of favorite plans, and will consider 
them as pleasant indications of the strength of the interest 
which is felt. Brinley, a famous canal engineer, was so 
much interested in his favorite mode of transportation, that 
he used to express the opinion that a canal was far more 
valuable to a country than a navigable river. He was once 
asked what he supposed Providence intended in creating 
rivers. He said they were good for nothing but to feed 
canals. And this story has been copied by every biographer 
of Brinley : it has been told again and again, in lectures and 



228 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Cases of excitement 



conversations and debates, as a pleasant instance of extrava- 
gance in a man devoted to a favorite pursuit, which proves 
nothing but the greatness of the interest he feels in it. No- 
body ever thought the worse of Brinley for it, or distrusted 
his judgment on any point in the science of engineering. 
Millions were risked on his opinion while he was living, and 
his name is remembered with the highest respect. So Chris- 
tians of uncultivated minds, will be sometimes extravagant 
in their opinions, or in their conduct, and only show by it the 
strength of the interest they feel. 

A man who is inventing a machine, will become so excited 
that he can not sleep. He will perhaps, in his efforts to ob- 
tain repose, fall into an uncertain state, between sleeping and 
waking, in which, half in reverie and half in dream, fancy 
will present him with splendid images of success. " He will 
hear a voice or see a figure, or he will be assured by some 
extraordinary mode that he shall overcome all his difficulties, 
if he will persevere. In the morning, light and the full 
possession of his faculties return, and as he is generally a 
man of intelligence, he can analyze the operations of his 
mind, and separate the false from the true. If he were an 
unenlightened man, however, and should in the morning tell 
his story, how narrow would be the philosophy which would 
say to him, " Sir, it is all a delusion. Your mind is evidently 
turned. You had better give up your invention, and return 
to other pursuits." It would be a great deal more wise to 
neglect altogether the story of supernatural voices and ap- 
pearances which he might tell, and judge of the value of his 
proposed invention by examining impartially his plan itself, 
and calculating on sober evidence the probability of success 
or failure. 

So, my reader, when you hear of any thing which you 
deem extravagance or delusion among Christians, remember 
how immense a change the beginning of a Christian course 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 229 



Conversion a vc ry great change. 



sometimes is. The man has been all his life neglecting and 
disliking religion. He has been engrossed in sinful pursuits 
and pleasures, and perhaps addicted to open vice. All at 
once, while contemplating God's holy truth, his eyes are 
opened — he sees his guilt and his imminent danger of ruin. 
He is, and he must be. strongly excited. If he feels sensible 
of his condition in any proper degree, he can not sleep. Can 
an arrested malefactor sleep quietly the first night in his cell ? 
He must be strongly excited, and this excitement must, in 
many cases, bring something like temporary mental delusion. 
He must do and say many things in which, the calm specta- 
tors can not sympathize. But it is most certainly very un- 
philosophical to fasten upon these things, and infer from them 
that all is delusion. The real question to be considered is 
this : Is a bad character really changed for a good one ? 
If so, it is a great moral change, invaluable in its nature and 
results, productive of inconceivable good to the individual 
himself, and to all connected with him. The excess of feel- 
ing is momentary and harmless. In regard to the perma- 
nency of the change in the case of those convicts, there is one 
whose subsequent character I have no means of knowing. 
The other, however, when he was liberated, became a useful 
and respectable citizen ; and after sustaining uninjured for 
two or three years the temptations of the world, he was ad- 
mitted to a Christian church ; and up to the latest accounts 
which I have been able to obtain, he was a most trustworthy 
man and an exemplary Christian. An abandoned profligate, 
imprisoned for his crimes, becomes a useful and a virtuous 
man. Can you expect such a change without excitement? 
How unphilosophical then is it to fasten upon the slight and 
momentary indications of excitement, as evidence that there 
is nothing real in the case ! 

And yet, unphilosophical as this is, I have no doubt that 
there are many persons whose eyes, if they weie reading 



230 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Nam >w views. Danger on both sides. 

the first convict's story, would catch at once the accounts 
of the supernatural appearances which he thought he saw, 
and they would stop short there. " Ah !" they would say, 
" he heard a voice forgiving his sins — he saw a black coffin ! 
It is all fanaticism and delusion." This .s narrow-minded- 
ness. The intellect which reasons thus, is in such a state 
that it does not take a survey of the whole of a subject pre- 
sented, so as to form an independent and unbiased opinion. 
The man fastens upon one little blemish which happens to 
be turned toward him, and seeing no farther, he condemns 
the whole. Like the inexperienced mariner who thinks he 
has come to a barren and inhospitable land, because he sees 
nothing but precipitous rocks or sandy beaches on the shore 
which first comes to view. 

There is, however, a narrow-mindedness which may ope- 
rate in another way. Many a sincere Christian will read 
such an account and be perfectly satisfied, because he meets 
with a few expressions of penitence, that the convict's heart 
is really changed. He thinks the criminal has certainly be- 
come a Christian, just because he talks like one. Whereas 
it is very possible that he is only repeating language which 
he has heard others use, for the sake of exciting sympathy, 
or pretending to be reformed, in hope of pardon and release 
from his cell. Now, it is as narrow-minded to judge from 
a very partial knowledge of facts in one way as in another. 
A.n experienced Christian can indeed often form a tolerably 
jsafe opinion of the reality or fictitiousness of a pretended 
change, by conversation ; but the great decisive evidence 
after all is perseverance in a holy life. 

If then men who have been abandoned to vice become 
virtuous and trustworthy citizens, and exemplify for years 
the graces of the Christian character, we will bear with a 
little excitement, and even enthusiasm, at the time of the 
change. For it is, after all, of comparatively little conse- 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 231 

Oriterion. The duty of submission. 

quenee whether this excitement shows itself by some open 
manifestation, as by the black coffin rising to the disturbed 
imagination of the convict in his cell, or the loud shout, 
" Glory to God," which resounds in the camp-meeting ; or 
whether it is subdued and restrained, as in the still solem- 
nity of an inquiry meeting on the evening of the Sabbath, or 
in the solitary suffering of an awakened sinner mourning at 
midnight the burden of his sins. Remember that I say it is 
of little consequence. Not that it is of none. It would be 
better if men would follow Jesus as readily and as easily as 
Matthew did. Jesus said unto him, " Arise and follow me ; 
and he arose and followed him." Immediate submission, 
with cordial confidence in the Savior, will at once remove 
all mental suffering and all cause for it. But if men will 
only give up their sins and lead lives of actual piety, we will 
not quarrel with them about the manner in which they enter 
the new way. 

Such then are some of the effects of the Bible upon the 
human character considered in detail. I have thought it 
best, in order to show the moral power of this book as dis- 
tinctly as possible, to analyze thus minutely the operation of 
it in some particular cases. But the argument would be 
very deficient if I should leave it here ; for if these cases 
were uncommon, they would prove but little. But they are 
not uncommon. Even in prisons, a very large number of 
such cases have, as I have already stated, occurred ; and the 
subjects of such changes have gone, when they have been 
liberated, in peace and happiness to their homes. There are 
now scattered over our land vast numbers who have been 
brought, from every stage and degree of guilt, to seek pardon 
through the Savior, and to begin a life of virtue and piety. 
The influence of the Bible, too, upon the community at large 
is so great, that every country where it freely circulates is 



232 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Limited circulation of the Biblo. Fear of death. 

distinguished for the peace which reigns there. Vice ia 
comparatively unknown, property and life are safe, every 
man sits under his own vine and fig-tree, with none to molest 
or make him afraid. But when man is left to himself, he 
makes his home a den of robbers. If you travel on the Nile 
or the Tigris, you must look well to your means of defense. 
Men must go in caravans in all those regions, for mutual 
protection. But how would an armed escort for a traveler 
appear on the banks of the Connecticut or the Hudson ? 

And yet though benefits so great are procured to society 
by the Bible, they are procured, after all, only by a limited 
application of its moral power. It is a very small proportion 
of the whole population, even in the United States, which 
attends at all to the commands and instructions of the 
word of God. The numbers are however rapidly increasing. 
The cause of God is advancing with great rapidity ; and as 
a military despotism or a Christian republic must be the 
ultimate destiny of every nation, we can look only to the 
spread of the influence of the Bible to save our country from 
ruin. 

I will close this chapter by mentioning one more instance 
of the moral power of the Bible — it is its effect in destroying 
the fear of death. The fear of death is instinctive, not 
founded on reasoning. It is reasonable for us to fear some 
things connected with death, but the chief apprehension 
which every man feels in looking forward to his last hour, 
is the result of an instinctive principle, which Providence has 
implanted in every man's mind ; and the only way by which 
it can be counteracted without the Bible, is by banishing the 
subject from his thoughts. That is the way that soldiers 
acquire courage in battle — by accustoming themselves not 
to think of death at all. It is not in human nature to con* 
template its approach, habitually and calmly, without such 
a preparation as the Bible gives. 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 233 

The sick young man. Sting of death. The dying mother. 

Come in imagination to this sick chamber. That young 
man tossing restlessly upon his pillow is soon to die. His 
physicians have given him over. His friends despair, but by 
a most absurd and preposterous species of kindness, they will 
not tell him of his danger, for they know he is unprepared 
to die, and the knowledge of the approach of the dread hour 
they think will distress him! But the sad secret they can 
not conceal ; he reads his sentence in their anxious looks 
and agitated words ; his pale cheek turns paler with fear, 
and to the natural restlessness of disease, there is added the 
overwhelming agitation of mental anguish. Can you soothe 
him ? Can you calm him ? Your very effort reveals to him 
his danger more distinctly, and his heart sinks within him 
in hopeless terror. Sometimes, it is true, this fear of death 
does not reign in the heart at the closing hour, for reason 
may be gone, or the soul may sink into stupor. But when 
death is really foreseen and known to be near, while the 
faculties retain their power, the expectation of it weighs down 
the human spirit with overwhelming fears. 

But the Bible assures us that the sting of death is sin, and 
promises that Christ will give believers the victory over it. 
This promise is most faithfully observed. See that dying 
Christian mother. She knows that death is near, and has 
calmly made her arrangements for the closing scene. She is 
a Christian, and looks forward to an entrance into the world 
of spirits with no foreboding a&d no anxiety. Her husband, 
and children, and friends, stand in agitation and distress around 
her bedside, but she is calm. A Christian death-bed very 
often exhibits the astonishing spectacle of composure and 
happiness in the one who is to drink the cup, while those 
around, who are only witnesses of the scene, are overwhelmed 
with agitation and sorrow. The very one who is to encounter 
the suffering, is the only one who can look forward to it with- 
out fear. It is because the Bible has been sheddinp; its'influ- 



234 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Practical directions. Difficulties. Disputes, 

enco upon her heart, and by a moral power, which no other 
means can exert, has disarmed death, the very king of ter- 
rors, and given to a weak and suffering mortal the victory 
over all his power. 

But I must close this chapter, and with it close the short 
and simple view I have been endeavoring to give of the evi- 
dences of Christianity. I can not but hope that my readers 
see evidences enough to satisfy them that the Bible is really 
the word of God. If you do, lay up the conviction in your 
heart, and let it guide and influence you. But let me, be- 
fore I dismiss the subject, give you two or three short prac- 
tical directions. 

1. Do not think there is no other side to this question. 
There are a great many things which may be said against 
the Bible, and some things which you, with your present at- 
tainments in Christian knowledge, perhaps can not answer. 
But they do not touch or affect the great arguments by which 
the authority of the Bible is sustained. They are all small, 
detached difficulties. Then let your mind rest calmly and 
with confidence upon the great but simple arguments on 
which the strong foundations of your belief stand. 

2. Never be inclined to disputed upon the evidences of the 
Christian religion. The difficulty with unbelievers is one of 
the heart, not of the intellect, and you can not alter the heart 
by disputing. When they present you with arguments 
against Christianity, reply in substance, " What you say 
seems plausible ; still it does not reach the broad and deep 
foundations upon which, in my view, Christianity rests ; and 
consequently, notwithstanding what you say, I shall still 
place confidence in the w T ord of God." 

3. Notice this, which, if you will watch your own experi- 
ence, you will find to be true. Your confidence in the word 
of God and in the truths of religion will be almost exactly pro- 
portional to the fidelity with which you do your duty. When 



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 236 

Doing duty. 

you lose your interest in your progress in piety, neglect prayer, 
and wander into sin. then you will begin to "be in darkness 
and doubt. If you are so unhappy as to get into such a state. 
do not waste your time in trying to reason yourself back to 
belief again. Return to duty. Come to God and confess 
your wanderings, and submit your heart again wholly to 
him. If you do this, light for the intellect and peace for the 
heart will come back together. 



23 G YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Study of the Bible. Able to make us wise unto salvation. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 
w Able to make us wise unto salvation.'' 

It is not my intention in this chapter to give any descrip^ 
tion of the Bible itself, or of its history since it came into the 
world ; nor shall I endeavor to establish its divine authority, 
or present the evidences or the nature of its inspiration. My 
object is to point out practical duty, and I shall confine my- 
self to a description of the best methods of reading and 
studying the book. 

I ought, however, to remark at the outset, that I intend the 
chapter to be of a highly practical character, and I shall go 
accordingly into minute detail. Besides, I am writing for the 
young, and shall, as I have generally done in this book, con- 
fine myself chiefly to them, for I have much more hope that 
they will be influenced to follow the course which I shall 
endeavor to describe, than that my efforts will produce any 
good effect upon those who have gone beyond the meridian 
of life. If a man has passed the age of thirty without the 
Bible, it is to be feared that he will go on unaided by its 
light through the remainder of his pilgrimage. It is (lif- 
erent, however, with the young. You shrink from passing 
life in impiety. You know that the Bible can be the only 
safe lamp to your feet ; and if you are not already living 
by its light, there is hope that you may be persuaded to 
come and give yourself up to its guidance now. 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 237 

Way to study the Bible. 

There should be a distinction made between the manner 
of reading the Bible on the Sabbath, and during the bustle 
of the week. The two objects to be accomplished, and the 
method of accomplishing them I shall describe. 

On the Sabbath the Bible should be studied. Every per- 
son, old or young, ignorant or learned, should devote a por- 
tion of time every Sabbath to the study of the Scriptures, in 
the more strict and proper sense of that term. But to show 
precisely what I mean by this weekly study of the Bible, I 
will describe a particular case. A young man with only 
such opportunities as are possessed by all, resolves to take 
this course ; he selects the epistle to the Ephesians for his 
first subject ; he obtains such books and helps as he finds in 
his own family, or as he can obtain from a religious friend, 
or procure from a Sabbath-school library. It is not too much 
to suppose that he will have a sacred Atlas, some Commen- 
tary, and probably a Bible Dictionary. He should also have 
pen, ink and paper ; and thus provided, he sits down Sab- 
bath morning to his work. He raises a short but heartfelt 
prayer to God that he will assist and bless him, and then 
commences his inquiries. 

The Epistle to the Ephesians I have supposed to be his 
subject. He sees that the first question evidently is, " Who 
were the Ephesians ?" He finds the city of Ephesus upon 
the map ; and from the preface to the Epistle contained in 
the commentary, or from any other source to which he can 
have access, he learns what sort of a city it was, what was 
the character of the inhabitants, and if possible, what con- 
dition the city was in at the time this letter was written. 
He next inquires in regard to the writer of this letter or 
Epistle, as it is called. It was Paul ; and what did Paul 
know of the Ephesians ? had he ever been there ? or was 
he writing to strangers ? To settle these points, so evidently 
important to a correct understanding of the letter, he ex* 



336 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The young man's experiment. 



amines the Acts of the Apostles, in which the account of 
St. Paul's labors is contained, to learn whether Paul went 
there, and if so, what happened while he was there. He 
finds that many interesting incidents occurred during Paul's 
visits to Ephesus, and his curiosity is excited to know 
whether these things will be alluded to in the letter ; he also 
endeavors to ascertain where Paul was when he wrote the 
letter. After having thus determined every thing relating 
to the circumstances of the case, he is prepared to come to 
the Epistle itself, and to enter with spirit and interest into an 
examination of its contents. 

He first glances his eye cursorily through the chapters of 
the book, that he may take in at once a general view of its 
object and design — perhaps he makes out a brief list of the 
topics discussed, and thus has a distinct general idea of the 
whole before he enters into a minute examination of the 
parts. This minute examination he comes to at last — though 
perhaps the time devoted to the study for tivo or three Sab- 
baths is spent in the preparatory inquiries. If it is so, it is 
time well spent ; for by it he is now prepared to enter with 
interest into the very soul and spirit of the letter. While he 
was ignorant of these points, his knowledge of the Epistle 
itself must have been very vague and superficial. Suppose 
I were now to introduce into this book a letter, and should 
begin at once, without saying by whom the letter was writ- 
ten, or to whom it was addressed. It would be preposterous. 
If I wished to excite your interest, I should describe particu- 
larly the parties, and* the circumstances which produced the 
letter originally. And yet how many Christians there are, 
who could not tell whether Paul's letter to the Ephesiana 
was written before or after he went there, or where Titus 
was when Paul wrote to him, or for what special purpose he 
wrote ! 

Take another case. The father or mother whom Provi- 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 239 



The family circle. Di&lribution of books. 

dence has placed at the head of a family, contrive to close 
their worldly business at an early hour on Saturday evening, 
and gather around the table at their fireside all those who 
are committed to their charge. They choose some subject 
for examination — real, thorough examination. Perhaps it is 
the rebuilding of Jerusalem after the captivity. The various 
books calculated to assist their inquiries are distributed among 
the members of the group ; the reference Bible is given to 
one, the Concordance to another, an Expositor to the third, 
the Bible Dictionary to the fourth ; and then, when all are 
seated, and the divine blessing has been invoked upon their 
labors, the father asks them all to turn to any part of the 
Scriptures which gives information upon the subject. They 
examine first the account of the destruction of the city, when 
the Jews were carried captive, that they may know in what 
condition it was probably found on their return. They search 
in several books for an account of the first movements in 
Babylon of those who were desirous of return ; they examine 
the plans which they formed ; compare one account with 
another ; every question which occurs is asked, and the in- 
formation which it seeks for, obtained. The two expeditions 
of Ezra and JNTehemiah are examined — the object of each 
and the connection between them. Under the control of a 
judicious parent, even secular history might be occasionally 
referred to, to throw light upon the subject. We may prop- 
erly avail ourselves of any helps of this kind, so far as their 
tendency is really to throw light upon the sacred volume. 
The children of the family soon take a strong interest in the 
study ; their inquiries are encouraged, their curiosity is awa- 
kened ; they regard it a pleasure, not a task. Instead of the 
evening of Saturday, the afternoon or evening of the Sab- 
bath, if more convenient, may be used ; and if the children 
are members of a- Sabbath School, their next lesson may be 
the subject. Those accustomed to the use of the pen will 



240 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Interest of the children. Of &1L 

derive great advantage from writing, each evening, notes or 
abstracts, expressing in a concise and simple style, the new 
knowledge they have acquired ; and every difficulty should 
be noted, that it may be presented at a convenient oppor- 
tunity to some other Christian student, to the superintendent 
of the Sabbath School, or to a minister of the Gospel. 

This method of studying the Scriptures, which I have thus 
attempted to describe, and which I might illustrate by sup- 
posing many other cases, is not intended for one class alone ; 
not for the ignorant peculiarly, nor for the wise ; not for the 
rich, nor for the poor ; but for all. The solitary widow, in 
her lonely cottage among the distant mountains, with nothing 
but her simple Bible in her hand, by the light of her even- 
ing fire, may pursue this course of comparing Scripture with 
Scripture, and entering into the spirit of sacred story, throw- 
ing herself back to ancient times, and thus preparing herself 
to grasp more completely, and to feel more vividly the moral 
lessons which the Bible is mainly intended to teach. And 
the most cultivated scholar may pursue this course in his 
quiet study, surrounded by all the helps to a thorough knowl- 
edge of the Scriptures which learning can procure or wealth 
obtain. 

I hope the specimens which I have given are sufficient to 
convey to my readers the general idea that I have in view, 
when I speak of studying the Bible, in contradistinction 
from the mere cursory reading of it, which is so common 
among Christians. But I must illustrate in minute detail 
the various methods of doing this ; for there are many per- 
sons who really wish to study the Bible more intellectually, 
and to receive more vivid impressions from it, but who do 
not exactly know what they are to do to secure these objects. 
I shall therefore describe some of the means which can easily 
be adopted, and which if adopted will be found very efficient 
tor this purpose. 



STUDY OP THE BIBLE. 24 J 

Particular directions. Familiar sounds. 

1. Picturing to the imagination the scenes described. 
There is a very common difficulty felt by multitudes in read- 
ing- the Bible, which admits of so sure and easy a remedy 
by the above direction, that I can not avoid devoting a few 
paragraphs to the formal consideration of it. 

A person who is convinced that it is his duty to read the 
word of God, and who really desires to read it, and to 
receive instruction from it, sits down on the Sabbath to the 
work. He opens perhaps to a passage in the Gospels, and 
reads on, verse after verse. The phraseology is all perfectly 
familiar to him. He has read the same passage a hundred 
times before, and the words fall upon his ear without life or 
meaning, and produce no impression upon his mind. After 
going through a few verses in this way, he finds that he is 
making no progress ; perhaps his mind has left his work 
altogether, and is wandering to some other subject. He 
begins back therefore a few verses, and endeavors to become 
interested in the narrative ; but it is to little purpose ; and 
after spending half an hour in the attempt, he shuts his 
book, and instead of feeling that renewed moral strength, 
and the peace of mind which comes from a proper use of the 
word of God, he feels disappointed and dissatisfied, and 
returns to his other duties more unquiet in spirit than before. 
What a vast proportion of the reading of the Bible, as 
practiced in Christian countries, does this description justly 
portray. 

Now some one may say that this careless and useless study 
of God's word arises from a cold and indifferent state of heart 
toward God. It does unquestionably often arise, in a great 
degree, from this source, but not entirely. There is another 
difficulty not connected with the moral state of the heart. 
It is this : 

Words that have been often repeated gradually lose their 
power to awaken vivid ideas in the mind. The clock which 

L 



242 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

The motto in the school-room. Description from the Bible. 

has struck perhaps many thousand times in your room, you 
at last cease even to hear. On the walls of a school-room 
there was once painted in large letters, " a place for every 

THING, AND EVERY THING IN ITS PLACE ;" but after a little 

time the pupils, becoming familiar with the sight of the 
inscription, lost altogether its meaning ; and a boy would 
open his disorderly desk and look among the confused mass 
of books, slates, and papers there, for some article he had 
lost, and then as he looked around the room, his eyes 
would fall on the conspicuous motto, without thinking a 
moment of the incongruity between its excellent precept 
and his own disorderly practice. It is always so. The oft- 
repeated sound falls at last powerless and unheeded on the 
ear. 

The difficulty then that I am now to consider, is, that 
in reading the Bible, especially those portions which are 
familiar, we content ourselves with merely repeating the 
ivords once more, instead of penetrating fully to the meaning 
beyond. In order to illustrate this difficulty and its remedy 
more fully, let me take a passage, the sixth chapter of St. 
John for example, to which I have opened at random. 

"' After these things Jesus went over the sea of Galilee, which is the 
sea of Tiberias. And a great multitude followed him, because they 
saw his miracles which he did on them that were diseased." 

How familiar, now, this sounds to every reader. Every 
phrase comes upon the ear like an oft-told tale, but it makes 
a very slight impression upon the mind. The next verse, 
though perhaps few of my readers know now what it is, 
will sound equally familiar when they read it here. 

"And Jesus went up into a mountain, and there he sat with his 
disciples." 

Now suppose that this passage and the verses which 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 243 

Vivid conceptions. The sea of Galilee. 

follow it were read at morning prayer by the master of a 
family ; how many of the children would hear it without 
being interested in it, or receiving any clear and vivid ideas 
from the description. And how many would there be who, 
if they were asked two hours afterward what had been read 
that morning, would be utterly unable to tell. » 

But now suppose that this same father could, by some 
magic power, show to his children the real scene which these 
verses describe. Suppose that he could go back through 
the eighteen hundred years w r hich have elapsed since these 
events occurred, and taking his family to some elevation in 
the romantic scenery of Palestine, from which they might 
overlook the country of Galilee, actually show them all that 
this chapter describes. 

" Do you see," he might say, " that wide sea which 
spreads out beneath us, and occupies the whole extent of 
the valley ? That is the sea of Tiberias ; it is also called 
the sea of Galilee. All this country which spreads around 
it is Galilee. Those distant mountains are in Galilee, and 
that beautiful wood which skirts the shore is a Galilean 
forest." 

" Why is it called the sea of Tiberias ?" a child might ask. 

" Do you see at the foot of that hill, on the opposite shore 
of the lake, a small town ? It extends along the margin of 
the water for a considerable distance. That is Tiberias, and 
the lake sometimes takes its name." 

" But look — there is a small boat coming round a point of 
. and which juts out beautifully from this side of the lake. It 
is slowly making its way across the water — we can almost 
hear the dashing of the oars. It contains the Savior and 
some of his disciples. They are steering toward Tiberias — 
now they approach the beach ; they stop at the landing, and 
the Savior, followed by his disciples, walks up the pathway 
on the shore." 



244 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



The Savior and the sick. 




THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 



Suppose now that this party of observers can remain a 
little longer at their post, and see in a short time that some 
sick person is brought to the Savior to be healed. Another 
and another comes. A crowd gradually collects around 
him. He retreats slowly up the rising ground, and after a 
little time he is seen to take his place upon an elevated 
spot, where he can overlook and address the throng which has 
assembled near. 

If this could be done, how strong and how lasting an 
impression would be made upon those minds ! Years, and 
perhaps the whole of life itself, would not obliterate it. 
Even this faint description, though it brings nothing new 
to the mind, will probably make a much stronger and 
more lasting impression than merely reading the narration 
Would da And what is the reason ? How is it that what 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 245 

Picturing the scene to the mind. 

I have here said has impressed this scene upon your minds 
more distinctly than the simple language of the Bible ? 
Why, it is only because I have endeavored to lead you to 
"picture this scene to your minds — to conceive of it strongly 
and clearly. Now any person can do this for himself in 
regard to any passage of Scripture. It is not necessary 
that I should go on and delineate in this manner the whole 
of the acconnt. Each reader can, if he will task his 
imagination, paint for himself the scenes which the Bible 
describes. And if he does thus bring his intellect and his 
powers of conception to the work, and read, not merely to 
repeat, formally and coldly, sounds already familiar, but to 
bring to his mind vivid and clear conceptions of all which 
is represented there, he will be interested. He will find 
new and striking scenes coming up continually to view, 
and will be surprised at the novelty and interest which this 
simple and easy efforts will throw over those very portions 
of the Bible to which the ear has become most completely 
familiar. 

I wish now that every one of my readers would really try 
this experiment. It will do very little good merely to read 
the foregoing directions, and resolve generally to endeavor in 
future to form vivid and clear conceptions of what is described 
when you are reading ; you must make a 'particular effort to 
learn to do this. Now the next time you sit down to read- 
ing the Bible, turn to the fifth chapter of the Gospel accord- 
ing to St. Luke, and picture to yourself as vividly as possible 
the scene described there. Do not think of a shore in general, 
but conceive of some particular shore. Give it shape and 
«form. Let it be rocky or sandy, or high or low, bordered 
with woods, or with hills, or with meadows. Let it be 
something distinct. You may, if you please, conceive it to 
be a long sandy beach, with a lofty bank and verdant field 
behind ; or you may have it an open wood, sloping gradually 



24:6 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Clear conceptions. West's picture of Christ rejected. 

down to the water's edge ; or a rocky, irregular coast, full of 
indentations ; or a deep and narrow bay, whose shores are 
overhung with willow T s. ■ Let it assume either of these forms, 
or any other which your fancy may portray, and which may 
suit the circumstances of your narrative ; only let it be some- 
thing distinct — clear and distinct in all its parts ; so that if 
you had power to represent upon canvas the conceptions of 
your mind, by painting, you might execute a perfect picture 
of the whole scene. 

To do this properly will require time and thought. You 
must be alone or at least uninterrupted, and your first 
effort will be a difficult one. The power of forming clear 
*and vivid conceptions of this kind varies greatly in different 
individuals. The faculty can, how r ever, be cultivated and 
strengthened by exercise. Historical painters, that is, paint- 
ers of historical scenes, are enabled to produce very great 
effects by the possession of this power. West, for example, 
formed in his own mind a clear, and vivid, and interesting 
conception of the scene which was exhibited when the crowd 
of angry Jews rejected the Savior and called for his cruci- 
fixion. He painted this scene, and the great picture which 
he has thus produced has been gazed at with intense interest 
by many thousands. 

I saw this picture in the gallery of the Athenaeum at 
Boston. The gallery is a large and lofty apartment, lighted 
by windows above, and containing seats for hundreds. As I 
came up the stairs which lead into the room, and stepped 
from them upon the floor of the apartment, I found a large 
company assembled. The picture, which was, as I should 
suppose, ten or fifteen feet long, stood against one side of the 
apartment, and before it, arranged upon the seats, were the 
assembled spectators, who were gazing with intense interest, 
and almost in perfect silence, upon the scene. As we came 
forward before the canvas we felt the same solemn impres- 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 247 

Effect upou th3 assembly. Writing questions. 

Eion which had silenced the others, and it was interesting 
and affecting to observe, as party after party came up the 
stairs, talking with usual freedom, that their voices gradually 
died away, and they stood silent and subdued before the pic- 
ture of the Savior. 

Yes ; there stood the Savior in the middle of the picture, 
passive and resigned, and with a countenance whose expres- 
sion plainly said that his thonghts were far away. The 
Roman governor stood before his palace endeavoring to per- 
suade the mob to consent to their prisoner's release. The 
uncovered and hard-featured soldiery sat at his feet upon the 
cross which they had been carrying, and were holding in 
their hands the spikes with which the limbs of the innocent 
one before them were to be pierced. All the other attendant 
circumstances were most vividly and strikingly represented. 
The mob were there, with fury and rage and hate in every 
variety upon their countenances. Barabbas was there, with 
his look of hardened and unsubdued guilt — and the centu- 
rion's little daughter, whose life Jesus had saved, stood by 
her father, apparently entreating him to interpose his power 
to rescue her preserver. 

Now West must have possessed, in order to succeed in 
executing such a work, the power, first, of forming a clear 
mental conception of the scene, and secondly, of representing 
this scene by colors on the canvas. The former of these 
only is the one necessary for the object that I have above 
described, and you ought, while reading accounts of Scripture 
scenes, to form as vivid and distinct conceptions of the scenes 
described as if you were actually intending to represent them 
by the pencil. 

2. Writing questions. A young man, with pen and paper 
before him, sits down, I will suppose, to the examination of 
some portion of the Bible, intending to write questions upon 
the passage, such as he would ask if he were preparing tc 



248 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



God's command to Abraham. Questions upon the passage, 

examine a class in a Sabbath School. Suppose he opens to 
the account of Abraham's offering Isaac. 

The following is the passage ; I copy it, that the readej 
may the better understand the questions. 

1. And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abra- 
ham, and said unto him, Abraham ; and he said, Behold, here I am. 

2. And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou 
lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a 
burnt offering, upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of. 

3. And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, 
and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave 
the wood for tha burnt offering, and rose up and went into the place of 
which God had told him. 

4. Then on the third day, Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the 
place afar off. 

5: And Abraham said unto his young men, Abide ye here with the 
ass : and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again 
to you. 

He reads this narrative carefully, verse by verse, and 
writes a question for every important fact stated. Perhaps 
the questions might be somewhat as follows. The reader, 
in examining them, is particularly requested to compare 
the questions, one by one, with the verses in which the 
answers are contained. I ought also to remark, that I do 
not offer these as examples of good questions, but only as a 
specimen of such as I suppose most young persons would 
write. 

1. To what land did God command Abraham to go to 
offer up his son ? 
• 2. How was he to be offered ? 

3. Was he to be offered on a mountain ? 

4. How did Abraham travel ? 

5. What time did he set out ? 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE 249 



Utility of writing questions. 



6. How many attendants had he ? 

7. How long a journey was it ? 

8. What is stated in the 5th verse ? 

I have written these questions as I imagine they might be \ 
written by any intelligent young person. Some of them are' 
however evidently not good. A leading question ought not 
to be asked, that is, one so written as to imply what the an- 
swer is ; nor ought it to be so written that the answer should 
be simply " Yes," or " No." No. 3 of the above is a leading 
question. No. 8, too, is not a good question. It is not im- 
portant that one should remember what is said in any particu- 
lar verse. It would have been better in such a form as this : 

8. What arrangement was made after they arrived at the mountain ? 

If any person will attempt the writing of questions in this 
manner, he will find it one of the most efficient means 
that he can possibly devise, of fixing upon his mind the facts 
contained in any portion of history. In order to make out 
the question, you look at the fact in various aspects and 
relations ; all its connections are considered, and the mind 
becomes thoroughly familiarized with it. For you will find, 
after a very little practice, that the same fact may be made 
the subject of a great number of different questions ; and 
to look at these with a view of selecting the best, is a 
most valuable intellectual exercise. Take, for instance, the 
very questions I have already spoken of, particularly No. 8. 
See how many different questions> or rather in how many 
forms the same questions can be asked, some bad and some 
good, upon the single verse to which it relates. In order to 
understand them, and be enabled to judge of their char- 
acter, the reader should refer to the passage itself, and com- 
pare the questions with the statements made in the last verso 
of the narrative. 

L* 



250 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Many questions upon one verse. Good and bad questions. 

1. What did Abraham say to the young men when he 
reached the mountain ? 

2. What plan did Abraham form when he reached the 
mountain ? 

3. Did all the party go together to the place where Isaac 
was to be offered ? 

4. How was the party divided when they reached the 
mountain ? 

5. How many persons went with Abraham to the place 
of sacrifice ? 

6. When Abraham went with Isaac alone to the place 
of sacrifice, what did he say that he was going for ? 

7. When Abraham left the young men behind, to go 
with Isaac alone to the place of sacrifice, what did he say 
that he was going to do ? 

8. What did he tell them that he was going to do ? 
Was this the truth ? Was it the whole truth? Are we 
always bound to tell the whole truth ? 

The reader will thus see that one and the same fact 
may be viewed in so many aspects and relations as to sug- 
gest a very large number of questions. After a very little 
practice, several questions will accordingly suggest them- 
selves at each verse to any individual who attempts the 
exercise. He will consider which to choose. He will, in 
thus considering, necessarily view the recorded fact under its 
various aspects, and acquire a far more thorough and per- 
manent knowledge of it than is possible to obtain from any 
cursory reading. So great is the advantage of this method 
of writing questions upon any book which the pupil desires 
thoroughly to understand, that it is not unfrequently adopted 
in schools — each pupil of a class being required to write 
questions upon a part or upon the whole of a lesson, which 
questions are then read and answered at the recitation. 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 25 J 

Experiment tried by a mother. 

I fancy now that I can hear some of my readers, of a 
mind somewhat mature, saying, " I will myself try this ex- 
periment, and after writing the questions, I will read them 
to some younger members of the family, to see if they can 
find the answers." Perhaps the individual who resolves 
on this experiment is the head of a family — a mother. She 
gathers her children around her, after the public services on 
the Sabbath, and says to them, u We will study a chapter in 
the Bible. I will study it, and you shall study it. I will 
read it carefully, and write in this little book all the questions 
that I can think of; and you at the same time may read it 
attentively, and try to understand it, and remember what it 
contains. Then after tea we will gather around the table 
before our bright fire, and I will read my questions, and you 
may see if you can answer them." 

The children enter with spirit into the plan. They gather 
into a little circle, and read their lesson aloud, verse by verse, 
questioning each other in regard to its difficulties, and en- 
deavoring to anticipate the questions which the mother is 
preparing. Even the little Benjamin of the family is inter- 
ested ; who, though he can scarcely read, looks attentively 
upon his Bible with the large print, hoping that there will 
be some easy question to come to him. 

At the appointed hour, they gather with eager interest 
to their recitation. The mother finds that many of her ques- 
tions are ambiguous, some too difficult, and that others could 
not be answered, for other reasons. Still a large portion are 
understood and answered. The moral lessons of the chapter 
are brought to view, and gently but forcibly impressed upon 
the heart. 

Are you a Sabbath-school teacher? Lay aside your 
printed question-book for one Sabbath, and write questions 
yourself upon the lesson of the day. Then compare what 
you have written with those printed for your use. Strike out 



252 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A Sabbath-school teacher. 3. Re-writing Scripture. 

from your own list all that are upon the other, and carry the 
rest with you to your class, and say to your pupils somewhat 
as follows : 

" I have been writing a new set of questions on this lesson. 
Now, I do not suppose that you can answer any of them, 
because you did not have them while you were studying. 
But should you like to have me read them to you, and let 
you try?" 

You will in such a case find the curiosity and interest of 
your class strongly awakened ; and though your first experi- 
ment may not fully succeed, you may say to them, " I will 
write questions again for the lesson of next week. When 
you are studying your own questions, then, I should like to 
have you remember that I am writing other questions than 
those, and endeavor to understand and remember every fact 
stated in the lesson, so that you can answer all my questions 
as well as the printed ones. I know it will be difficult for 
you, but I presume that you can do it." 

A Sabbath-school teacher who will make such efforts as 
these, to render his work more intellectual, and to interest 
himself and his pupils more deeply in the thorough gtudy of 
the Bible, will find that both himself and his pupil? will ad- 
vance with double rapidity. 

3. T&e-writing 'portions of Scripture. Read, or rather 
study, some portion of Scripture thoroughly, and then write 
the substance of it in your own language. I can illustrate 
this best, perhaps, by repeating the following dialogue. It is, 
I will suppose, Sabbath evening ; the family are gcing out, 
and one son, a boy of fourteen, is to be left at home. 

" What shall I do this evening ?" asks the son. 

The father turns to the fifth chapter of Luke, and says : 

" Take this chapter, read the first eleven verses, and form 
a clear and distinct conception of the whole scene, just as if 
you had witnessed it. Thsn write an account of it 'n youi 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 253 

The boy's evening work. Actual case. Passage. 

own language. Be careful to write entirely in your own 
language." 

" Must I not use the language of the Bible at all ?" 

"No. You have two separate things to do. First, read 
the account attentively and thoroughly, in order to form in 
your own mind a distinct picture of the whole. Try to see 
it as plainly as if you had stood upon the bank and actually 
looked down upon the whole transaction. Then shut your 
Bible, and write your own account of it, just as if you were 
writing a letter to me, and describing something which you 
had yourself seen." 

Now suppose the boy engages in this work in the manner 
described above, with how much more interest than usual 
will he read the passage ! He will scrutinize it carefully ; 
examine every circumstance of the narrative minutely, and 
notice many points of interest which would ordinarily escape 
him. 

Once when I asked a lad, under circumstances similar to 
these, to re-write this passage, he had not been five minutes 
at his work before he came with a question which I presume 
hundreds of my readers have never thought to ask, though 
they all have doubtless read the passage again and again. I 
must, however, first give the passage. 

Luke v. 1. 

1. And it came to pass that as the people pressed upon him to hear 
the word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesaret. 

2. And saw two ships standing by the lake ; but the fishermen were 
gone out of them, and were washing their nets. 

3. And he entered into one of the ships, which was Simon's, and 
prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And he 
sat down and taught the people out of the ship. 

4. Now when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, Launch out 
into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. 

5. And Simon answering, said unto him, Master, we have toiled al] 



254 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Difficulty arising. Explanation of it. 

the night, and have taken nothing ; nevertheless, at thy word I will 
let down the net. 

6. And when they had this done, they inclosed a great multitude of 
fishes ; and their net brake. 

7. And they beckoned unto their partners which were in the other 
ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled 
both the ships, so that they began to sink. 

8. When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus's knees, saying, 
Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord. 

9. For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught 
of the fishes which they had taken. 

10. And so were also James and John, the sons of Zebedee, which 
were partners with Simon. And Jesus said unto Simon, Fear not, 
from henceforth thou shalt catch men. 

11. And when they had brought their ships to land they forsook all 
and followed him. 

The difficulty which the boy proposed was this : 

" In the second verse," says he, "it is stated that the 
rishermen had gone out of their boats, and were washing 
their nets, but in the third, Christ enters one of the boats and 
asks Simon to move off a little from the shore ; that seems 
to imply that Simon was still in his boat." 

How apparent was it from this question, that the boy was 
reading the Bible understandingly, and not merely repeating 
once more the familiar sounds by which the scenes of that 
passage are described ! Upon a little reflection, it was mani- 
fest that Simon might have remained in his boat, while the 
fishermen generally had gone ashore ; or he might have 
stood near, so as to be easily addressed by the Savior. The 
difficulty vanished in a moment. But, by the ordinary, dull, 
sluggish reading of the Bible, both difficulty and solution 
would have been alike unseen. 

The following was the description produced in this case : 
1 copy it without alteration, that my readers may see, from 
actual inspection of an actual example, what degree of suc- 
cess they may expect to attain. 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 255 



The paraphrase. 



Jesus and the Fishermen. 

" Once, as Jesus was standing near a lake called Gennesaret, a great 
multitude crowded around him, wishing to have him address them, 
He saw near the shore two fishing vessels, but the fishermen had gone 
away to clean their nets. He went into one of them, which belonged 
to Simon, and asked him to shove the vessel out a little way into the 
water, and he talked to the people from the deck. When he had 
finished, he told Simon to go out into the sea and cast in their nets in 
order to get some fish. And Simon said to him, we have been work- 
ing all night and have not caught any thing, but as you have desired 
it, we will let down our nets again. Having done it, they took a great 
many fishes, and their net was broken, and there were so many fishes 
that both ships were filled and began to sink. Simon was so much 
astonished, and they that were with him, at taking so many fishes this 
time, when they had been laboring all night and caught nothing, that 
(he fell down before Jesus, saying, Depart from me, for I am a sinful 
man.) Simon's companions, James and John, were also surprised at 
the fishes. And when they had brought their ships to the shore they 
left all their things and followed Jesus." 

The part inclosed in a parenthesis is Scripture language. 
The boy said that he could not express that idea in any other 
way, and he used the parenthesis as a mode of indicating 
that the language of the Bible was, in that clause, retained. 

This example, as is obvious from the style and language 
in which the narrative is given, was the work of quite a 
youthful student. The exercise itself, however, is of such a 
nature as to be adapted to any stage of intellectual progress ; 
and the writing of such narratives may be carried to a 
greater or less extent according to the taste and skill of the 
individual, or to the amount of time which he has at his 
disposal for such a purpose. I knew a young man who re- 
wrote the whole book of the Acts in this w r ay. He devoted 
the Sabbath afternoons to the work, from the close of the 
services at church to the tea hour. He made a neat manu- 
script copy of his work as he proceeded, illustrating it with 



256 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Plan tried by James and John. 



maps, which he drew for the purpose. The benefit which 
he derived from the work was incalculable, not only in re- 
spect to the very minute, thorough, and accurate knowledge 
of the Scriptures, which he acquired by means of it, but in 
the general development and cultivation of his intellectual 
powers. 

4. Collating the Scriptures. The next method that I 
shall describe, by which variety and efficiency can be given 
to your study of the Scriptures, may be called collation. It 
consists of carefully comparing two or more different accounts 
of the same transaction. 

To illustrate it, I will imagine that two young persons sit 
down on a Sabbath afternoon by their fire-side to read the 
Bible, and they conclude to collate the several accounts of 
Paul's conversion. To show that this exercise does not re- 
quire any advanced age, or any great maturity of mind, 1 
will imagine that the scholars are quite young, and will give 
in detail the conversation, as we might imagine it in such a 
case to be. We will suppose James to be thirteen or 
fourteen years of age, and John some years younger. 

John. " Well, what shall we read ?" 

James. " I think it would be a good plan for us to read 
and compare the two accounts of the conversion of Paul. 
Here is the first account in the 9th chapter of the Acts ; and 
I believe Paul himself afterward gave some account of it in 
his speech." 

John. "What speech ?" 

James. " Some speech that he made when he was upon 
trial. I will find it ; it is somewhere in the last part of the 
book of Acts." 

The boys turn over the leaves of their Bibles, until at last 
James says, 

" Here it is ; I have found it ; it is in the 26th chapter." 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 257 

Three accounts of Paul's conversion. 

" No," says John, " it is in the 22d ; it begins at the 4th 
verse." 

James. " Let me see it. 0, there are two accounts in his 
speeches ; that makes three in all. Shall we compare them 
all?" 

John. " Yes ; we can put our fingers into all the places, 
and read one verse of one, and then one verse of another, and 
so go through." 

James. "Well, let us see where these two speeches were 
made." 

The boys then examine the introductory remarks connected 
with these two addresses of the Apostle, and learn before 
whom and under what circumstances they were made, and 
then proceed with their comparison. 

James. " I will read first in the 9th chapter." 

1. "And Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and slaugh- 
ter against the disciples of the Lord, went unto the high- 
priest, 

2. " And desired of him letters to Damascus, to the 
synagogues, that if he found any of this way, whether they 
were men or women, he might bring them bound unto 
Jerusalem. 

"Now you may read as much," he continues, "in the 22d 
chapter." 

John. " Where shall I begin ?" 

James. (Looking at the passage,) " At the 5th verse, I 
believe." 

John. (Heading,) "As also the high-priest doth bear me 
witness, and all the estate of the elders ; from whom also I 
received letters unto the brethren, and went to Damascus, to 
bring them which were there bound unto Jerusalem, for to 
be punished." 



253 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Effect of this method. 



11 Do you see any difference, James ?" 

James, " Yes ; there are two differences: it is said in'the 
first account that Paul took letters from the high-priest 
alone ; and in the second, from the elders too — all the estate 
of the elders. It is said, too, in the first account, that his 
letters were to the synagogues, but in the second, that they 
were to the brethren." 

Boys of twelve years of age would probably see no farther 
than to notice such obvious points of comparison as those that 
I have mentioned ; but a maturer mind, attempting this 
same exercise, would go far deeper, and consequently with a 
stronger interest, into the subject. Such a one will take great 
pleasure in observing how every expression in the account in 
the twenty-second chapter corresponds with the circumstances 
in which. Paul was placed. He was in Jerusalem. A great 
popular tumult had been excited against him. A few of his 
determined enemies had, by the arts with which it is always 
easy for bad men to inflame the multitude, urged them on 
almost to fury, and an immense throng had gathered around 
him, with the marks of the most determined hostility in their 
looks and gestures and actions. At this moment a Roman 
military force appeared for his rescue ; he was drawn out 
from the crowd, and standing upon the stairs of the castle, 
above the tumultuous sea from which he had been saved, he 
attempts to address the assembly. 

He had been represented to the crowd as a foreigner — an 
Egyptian, who had come to Jerusalem to excite sedition and 
tumult ; and of course his first aim would naturally be to 
destroy this impression, and present himself before this assem- 
bly as their fellow-countryman — one who had long resided 
among them, and had regarded them as brethren. How 
natural is it therefore that he should speak distinctly of his 
connection with the Jewish nation ! He commences his 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 250 

Advantages of this plan. List of lessons. 

account with the statement that he is a Jew — by birth, by 
education, and by feelings. This peculiarity in the speaker's 
condition, accounts most fully and in a most interesting 
manner for the difference between the expressions which he 
uses here, and those used in the ninth chapter. Where, in 
the narrative, the high-priest only was alluded to, in the 
defense, the speaker mentions respectfully all the estate of 
the elders. The historian, employing the simple historical 
style, says that Paul went with letters to the synagogues. 
The orator, in his effort to allay irritated feelings, uses the 
word brethren — a term equally correct, but far more suitable 
to his purpose. 

I make these remarks, not to go into a commentary upon 
Paul's speech, but to show what kind of reflections will occur 
to an intelligent mind, in thus collating different portions of 
the sacred volume. Notice every difference ; and endeavor 
to discover, in the circumstances of the case, its cause. You 
will find by so doing that new and striking beauties will 
arise to view at every step ; the pages of the Bible will look 
brighter and brighter, with meaning hitherto unseen, and you 
will find new exhibitions of character and conduct so natural 
and yet so simple as to constitute almost irresistible evidence 
of the reality of the scenes which the sacred history describes. 

There are a great many of the events of which two differ- 
ent accounts are given in the Bible, which may be advan- 
tageously collated in the manner above described. In hopes 
that some of my readers will study the Scriptures in this way, 
I enumerate some of them. 

LESSONS. 

Solomon's Choice. 1 Kings and 2 Chronicles. 
Dedication of the Temple. 1 Kings, 2 Chronicles. 
Revolt of the Ten Tribes " " 

Story of Elisha. " %l 



260 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Lessons. Difficulties to be anticipated. 

Story of Elijah. 1 Kings, 2 Chronicles. 

Story of Hezekiah. Kings, Chronicles, and Isaiah. 

Genealogical Line from Adam to Abraham. Genesis 
and 1 Chronicles. 

Catalogue of the Kings of Israel. Kings and Chronicles. 

Catalogue of the Kings of Judah. Kings and Chronicles. 

Preaching of John the Baptist. Matthew, Mark, Luke, 
and John. 

The Temptation of Christ. Matthew, Mark, and Luke 

The Savior's Arrest. Four Evangelists. 

His Trial. Four Evangelists. 

His Death. Four Evangelists. 

His Resurrection. Four Evangelists. 

Institution of the Lord's Supper. Matthew and 1 
Corinthians. 

Genealogy of Christ. Matthew and Luke 

The above subjects vary very much in the degree of intel- 
lectual effort necessary for their examination, and in almost 
every one of them the reader will often be involved in diffi- 
culties which he can not easily remove. If we merely read 
the Bible, chapter after chapter, in a sluggish and formal 
manner, we see little to interest us and little to perplex ; but 
in the more thorough and scrutinizing mode of study which 
I here suggest, both by this mode and the others which I 
have been describing, we shall find beauties and difficulties 
coming up together. Let every one who undertakes such a 
collation of different accounts, expect difficulty. Do not be 
surprised at apparent contradictions in the narrative ; you 
I will find many. Do not be surprised when you find various 
circumstances in the different accounts which you find it 
impossible to bring together into one view ; you must expect 
such difficulties. Look at them calmly and patiently ; seek 
solutions from commentaries and from older Christians, and 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 261 



The Apoatle Peter. Jerusalem. 



what you can not by these means understand, quietly leave. 
A book which, under divine guidance, employed the pens of 
from fifty to a hundred writers — scattered through a period 
of fifteen hundred years ; whose scenes extend over a region 
of immense extent, and whose narratives are involved with 
the most minute history of all the great nations of antiquity 
— Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome — such a book 
you must not expect to understand fully in a day. 

5. Studying by subjects. Select some subject, such that 
the information which the Scriptures contain in respect to it 
is scattered through various portions of the sacred volume, 
and make it your study to collect this information, and bring 
it together in one general view. Take for instance the life 
of the Apostle Peter. Suppose you make it your business on 
one Sabbath, with the help of a brother, or sister, or any 
other friend who will unite with you in the work, to obtain 
all the information which the Bible gives in regard to him. 
By the help of the Concordance you will find all the places in 
which he is mentioned ; you compare the various accounts 
contained in the four gospels ; and observe in what they 
agree and in what they differ. After following down his 
history as far as the Evangelists bring it, you take up the 
book of the Acts, and go through that narrative, searching for 
information in regard to this Apostle, and omitting those 
parts which relate to other subjects. In this way you become 
fully acquainted with his character and history ; you under- 
stand it as a whole. 

Jerusalem is another good subject, and the examination 
would afford scope for the exercise of the faculties of the 
highest minds for many Sabbaths. Find when the city is 
first named, and from the manner in which it is mentioned, 
and the circumstances connected with the earliest accounts 
of it, ascertain what sort of city it was at that time. 
Then follow its history down ; notice the changes as they 



262 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The Sabbath. List of topic* 

occur ; understand every revolution, examine the circum- 
stances of every battle and siege of which it is the scene, 
and thus become acquainted with its whole history down to 
the time when the sacred narration leaves it. To do this 
well, will require patient and careful investigation. You can 
not do it as you can read a single chapter — carelessly and 
with an unconcerned and uninterested mind ; you must, if 
you would succeed in such an investigation, engage in it in 
earnest. And that is the very advantage of such a method 
of study ; it breaks up effectually that habit of listless, dull, 
inattentive reading of the Bible which so extensively prevails. 

You may in the same manner take the subject of the 
Sabbath ; examine the circumstances of its first appointment, 
and then follow its history down, so far as it is given in the 
Bible, to the last Sabbath alluded to in the sacred pages. 

The variety of topics which might profitably be studied in 
this way is vastly greater than would at first be supposed. 
There is a great number of biographical and geographical 
topics, and a great number which relate to manners, and 
customs, and sacred instructions. In fact, the whole Bible 
may be analyzed in this way, and its various contents 
brought before the mind in new aspects, and with a fresh- 
ness and vividness which, in the mere repeated reading of 
the Scriptures in regular course can never be seen. It may 
assist the reader who is disposed to make the experiment, 
if I present a small list ; it might be extended easily to any 
length. 

BIOGRAPHICAL TOPICS. 

Hezekiah. Herod. 

Daniel. John the Baptist. 

Elijah. Peter. 

Elisha. Nicodemus. 

Jeremiah. Judas. 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 263 



Intellectual study of the Bible. 



GEOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL TOPICS. 

Jerusalem. Samaria. 



Egypt. 


The Sea of Galilee. 


The Nile. 


Tyre. 


Babylon. 


The Philistines. 


The Red Sea, 


The Moabites. 


The Jordan. 


The Ammonites. 


Damascus. 


Ethiopia. 


TOPICS RELATING TO 


RELIGIOUS RITES. 


Sacrifices. 


The Ark of the Covenant, 


The Sabbath. 


The Tabernacle. 


The Feast of Tabernacles. 


Baptism. 


The Passover. 


The Lord's Supper 


Fasting. 


Synagogues. 



There are various other methods which might be men- 
tioned and described ; but enough has been said to enable 
any one who is disposed, to engage at once, for a short time 
each Sabbath, in a truly intellectual study of the Bible 
Parents can try the experiments which I have above de- 
scribed, in their families ; and Sabbath-school teachers can 
try them in their classes. Sabbath Schools would be astonish- 
ingly improved at once, if the teachers would put their inge- 
nuity into requisition to devise and execute new plans, so as 
to give variety to the exercises. There should be a spirit 
and interest exhibited, both by the teacher and pupil, which 
the mere servile reading of printed questions, and listening 
to answers mechanically committed, never can produce. 

There is far too little of this intellectual study of thf* 
Bible, even among the most devoted Christians. Its litera- 
ture, its history, its biography, the connection of its parts — 
all are very little understood. It is indeed true, that the 



264 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Object of the historic form. 



final aim of the Bible is to teach us personal religious duty. 
It comes to the conscience — not to the literary taste of men ; 
it is designed to guide their devotions, not to gratify their cu- 
riosity, or their love of historic truth. But why is it that God 
has chosen the historic form, as a means of communicating 
his truths ? Why is it that his communications with man- 
kind were for so many years so completely involved with the 
political history of a powerful nation, that that whole history 
must be given ? Why is our Savior's mission so connected 
with the affairs of the Roman government, and all this con- 
nection so fully detailed, that no inconsiderable portion of the 
geography, and customs, and laws of that mighty empire, is 
contained in the Gospels and the Acts ? The moral lessons 
which our Savior taught might have been presented in 
their simple didactic form. The whole plan of salvation 
through the sufferings of a Redeemer, might have been given 
us in one single statement ; instead of this, we are left to 
gather it piece by piece from multitudes of narratives, and 
addresses, and. letters. Why is it then, that instead of one 
simple proclamation from the Majesty on high, we have sixty 
or seventy different books, introducing us to the public history 
of twenty nations, and to the minutest incidents in the biogra- 
phies of a thousand men ? It is that we may be excited by 
the interest of incident and story ; that religion and impiety 
may be respectively presented to us in living and acting 
reality; and that the principles of God's government, and 
his dealing with men, may come to us in all the vividness of 
actual fact. If then we neglect to understand this history 
as history, and to enter into all the incidents which are 
detailed, we lose the very benefit which the Spirit had in 
view in making the Bible such a volume as it is. Without 
such an occasional effort to make the Scriptures a study, 
examining them intellectually, comparing one part with 
another, and endeavoring to bring vividly to view the scenes 



STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 265 

Reading practically. Daily reading of the Bible. 

which they present to our minds, it may safely be said 
that no one can truly understand the Bible, or enter at alL 
into the spirit of its descriptions, its warnings, and its 
appeals. 

But after all, it must still be remembered that the great 
object in studying the Bible is not merely to understand it. 
The revelation which God has made is a message sent, not 
to the intellect, but to the consciences and hearts of men ; 
and unless it reaches the conscience and the heart, it entirely 
fails of accomplishing its object. "We ought, indeed, to gain 
an intellectual knowledge of it, but that is only to be con- 
sidered as a means to enable us the more fully to apply to 
our own characters and conduct, the practical lessons which 
it teaches. 

The Sabbath seems, for most persons, the most proper 
time for the systematic study of the Scriptures, but a portion 
of the sacred volume should be read practically every day. 
This part of my subject does not need so full an illustration 
as the other, for the great difficulty in regard to reading the 
Scriptures practically, is a want of disposition to do it. They 
who really wish to learn their duty and overcome the temp- 
tations that assail them, — and who desire that the sins of 
their hearts and lives should be brought to their view by the 
word of God, will easily make for themselves an application 
of the truths which the Bible contains 

Will not all my readers do this, faithfully and persever- 
ingly ? Resolve to bring a short portion of the preceptive 
or devotional parts of the Scriptures home to your heart every 
day ; and let your object be, in this daily reading of the 
Bible, not so much to extend your intellectual view of the 
field open to you in its pages, as to increase its moral and 
spiritual influence upon your heart and conduct. Be not so 
careful, then, to read this exact quantity, or that ; but to 
bring home some portion really and fully to the heart and to 

M 



26G 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Useless reading. 



The apprentice. 



the conscience — to do it so forcibly, that the influence of 
those few verses read and pondered in the morning, will 
go with you through the day. 

Habitual reading of the Bible is, however, sometimes prac- 
ticed with a different spirit from this. A boy, for example, 
whose parents or whose Sabbath-school teacher has con- 
vinced him that he ought to read the Bible daily, takes his 
book and sits down by the fire, and reads away, rapidly and 
thoughtlessly, the portion which comes in course. He looks 
up occasionally, to observe the sports of his brothers and sis- 
ters, or to join in their conversation, and then returns again to 
the verse which he had left. In fifteen minutes he rises from 
his seat, shuts his book, and pushes it into its place upon the 
shelf, saying, " There — I have read my chapter ;" and this 
is the last that he knows or thinks of the Bible during the 
day. 

Consider now another case. In an unfurnished and even 
unfinished little room, in some crowded alley of a populous 

city, you may see a lad, 




THE APPRENTICE. 



who has just arisen 
from his humble bed, 
and is ready to go forth 
to his daily duties. He 
is a young apprentice, 
— and must almost im- 
mediately go to kindle 
his morning fire, and 
to prepare his place of 
business for the labors 
of the day. He first, 
however, takes his lit- 
tle Testament from his 
chest — and breathes, 
while he opens it, a 



STUDY OF THE BTBLE. 267 

Reading two verses aright. 

silent prayer, that God will fix the lesson that he is about 
to read, upon his conscience and his heart. "Holy Spirit!" 
whispers he, " let me apply the instructions of this book to 
myself, and let me be governed by it to-day ; so that I may per- 
form faithfully all my duties to myself, to my companions, to my 
master, and to Thee." He opens the book, and reads perhaps as 
follows : — " Be kindly afFectioned one to another, with brother 
ly love, with honor preferring one another." He pauses ; his 
faithful self-applying thoughts run through the scenes through 
which he is that day to pass, and he considers in what case 
this verse ought to influence him. " Be kindly affection edf" 
I must .treat my brothers and sisters, and all my companions, 
kindly to-day. I must endeavor to save them trouble, and 
to promote their happiness. " In honor prefer 'ring one an- 
other." As he sees these words, he sighs to reflect how many 
times he has been jealous of his fellow-apprentices, on ac- 
count of marks of trust and favor shown to them, or envious 
of the somewhat superior privileges enjoyed by those older 
than himself, and he prays that God will forgive him, and 
make him humble and kind-hearted in future, to all around 
him. 

" Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the 
Lord.''' He stops to consider whether he is habitually in • 
dustrious, improving all his time in such a manner as to be 
of the greatest advantage to his master ; — whether he is fer- 
vent in spirit ; that is, cordially devoted to God's service, and 
full of benevolent desires for the happiness of all ; — whether 
he serves the Lord in what he does, that is, whether all his 
duties are discharged from motives of love to his Maker and 
Preserver. While he thus muses, the fire burns. He shuts 
his book, and asks God to protect him as he now goes out 
into the labors and temptations of the day. God does bless 
and protect him. He has read, indeed, but two verses ; but 
these verses he carries in lus heart, and they serve as a me- 



268 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The Bible. What quantity to read. 

morial of kindness and love to man, and fidelity toward God. 
which accompanies him wherever he goes, and keeps him 
safe and happy. The Bible is thus a light to his feet and a 
lamp to his paths. Which, now, of these, do you think, 
reads the Bible aright ? 

Let no child who reads this understand me to say that I 
consider two verses enough of the Bible to read each day. 
What I mean by this case is, that so much more depends 
upon the spirit and manner with which the Bible is read, 
than the quantity — that a very small portion, properly read, 
may be far more useful than a much larger quantity hurried 
over in a careless and thoughtless manner. No precise rules 
can be given in regard to quantity ; it must vary with cir- 
cumstances ; and of these the individual must, in most cases 
be the judge. 



THE SABBATH. 269 



The Sabbath. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SABBATH. 
" Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." 

My readers are undoubtedly generally aware that the pres- 
ent obligation to keep the Sabbath has been, by some per- 
sons, denied, on the ground that the keeping of one day in 
seven is a sort of ceremony, and that it was only intended to 
be required of the Jewish nation. I do not propose, in this 
chapter, to enter at all into a discussion of that subject. 
Most if not all, of those who will read this book, are un- 
doubtedly satisfied in regard to it. I will, however, simply 
state the facts, on the ground of which the present binding 
authority of the Lord's-day is generally admitted by Chris- 
tians. 

As soon as God had finished the creation, it is stated that 
he rested on the seventh day and sanctified it ; that is, he set 
it apart for a sacred use. The time and the circumstances 
under which this was done, sufficiently indicate that it was 
intended to apply to the whole race, and to extend through 
all time. A ceremony solemnly established at the founda- 
tion of an empire, would be universally considered as de- 
signed to extend as far and to continue as long as the empire 
itself should extend and continue, unless it should be dis- 
tinctly repealed. And so with a duty established at the 
foundation of a world. 



270 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 



Change from Saturday to Sunday. 



Many years afterward, the Creator gave a very distinct 
code of laws to his people, the Jews. These laws were of 
two kinds, ceremonial and moral. It was the design of the 
former to be binding only upon the Jewish nation ; the latter 
are of a permanent and universal authority. 

The ceremonial laws were merely repeated to Moses, and 
he made a record of them ; you will find them nearly all in 
the chapters of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. All the regula- 
tions relating to sacrifices are of this character. The moral 
Laws were, however, given in the most solemn manner from 
Mount Sinai. They are the ten commandments, and they 
were written by the direct power of God himself, upon tables 
of stone, which were carefully preserved. 

Now, as if to remove all possible ground of doubt in regard 
to his designs, the observance of the Sabbath was made the 
subject of one of these ten commandments ; and it has been 
observed from that day to this, by a vast majority of all those 
who have evinced a wish to obey their Maker's commands. 

These facts are abundantly sufficient to convince those 
who are willing to keep the Sabbath, that God intended 
that all men should keep it. They who are not convinced, 
reveal by their doubts their unwillingness to obey. I would 
advise, therefore, any one who has doubts about the divine 
authority of the Sabbath, not to spend his time in looking for 
the arguments for and against, in this controversy, but to 
come at once to his heart. Ask yourself this question : "Do 
I fully understand what it is to remember the Sabbath day 
and keep it holy, and am I cordially and sincerely willing to 
do it ?" In the affirmative answer to this question you will 
find the solution to all your doubts. 

The Sabbath was observed, from its establishment down 
to the coming of Christ, on the seventh day of the week, 
which is our Saturday. Our Savior rose from the dead on 
the day after the Sabbath, and w r e find soon after his resur- 



THE SABBATH. 271 



Beginning of the Sabbath. 



rectioii, that Christians observed that day instead of the 
former one, as sacred time. There is no direct command to 
do this, and no indication that there was any controversy 
about it at the time. "We simply observe that the Christian 
community at once and simultaneously make the change. 
They keep one day in seven as before, but it is a different 
day. We infer that they had some authority for the change, 
though it is not at all necessary that that authority should 
be specified. It is the custom in most of the schools in 
New England to consider the afternoon of Saturday a half- 
holyday. Now, suppose a boy should leave this country to 
go on a foreign voyage, and after being absent many months, 
should return, and find, when Saturday afternoon comes, that 
all the boys in his native town go to school as usual, but that 
on Monday afternoon the schools are all suspended. He 
sees that this is the universal custom, and it continues so 
permanently. Now it is not, under these circumstances, at 
all necessary that the original vote of the school committee 
by which the change was made should come before him. 
The universality of the practice is the best of evidence in 
such a case. No boy would wish for more. It is just so 
with the evidence we have that the Sabbath Was changed. 
Suddenly all Christians changed their practice ; they changed 
together, and without any evidence of a controversy, and the 
new arrangement has been adopted from that day to this. 

But yet some persons are not quite satisfied about it, and 
there are various other questions connected with the time of 
the Sabbath, which have occasioned in the minds of many 
Christians serious doubts and perplexities. Some imagine that 
they ought to have more evidence of the change from the sev- 
enth to the first day of the week ; they think, too, that the Sab- , 
bath is intended to be commemorative of God's rest after fin- 
ishing the creation, and that this object is lost by altering the 
day ; and some lose themselves in endless arguments on the 



272 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Idle controversies. 



question whether sunset, midnight, or morning, marks th8 
beginning of the sacred day. The difference of views on this 
subject produces some difference of practice. There are de- 
nominations of Christians who prefer to keep Saturday as 
holy time, and not Sunday, regarding the former as the 
seventh day meant by the commandment. There is a differ- 
ence of practice, too, in regard to the time of commencing 
the holy day. In some portions of our land the Sabbath is 
understood to begin on the evening of Saturday, so that when 
the sun goes down on Sunday evening, they return to their 
usual duties and cares. In other places, midnight is con- 
sidered as the limit which marks the beginning and the end 
of sacred time. 

The actual inconvenience arising from this diversity is 
comparatively slight. The great evil which these differences 
of opinion produce, is the interminable disputes which arise 
from them. Perhaps some of my readers, when they saw 
the subject of the Sabbath announced, may have been curious 
to know which side I was going to take in regard to some of 
these points ; for example, on the question whether it is 
proper to commence holy time on Saturday evening, or on 
Sabbath morning. Now, in fact, I am going to take both 
sides. I am going to endeavor to convince you that it is en- 
tirely immaterial which is adopted, and that the whole sub- 
ject is completely unworthy of being made a matter of con- 
troversy among Christian brethren. 

When God gives us a command, I am aware that we 
must obey it exactly. But a command is obeyed exactly, if 
it is obeyed in all the particulars expressed in the words of it. 
I think the following principle may be laid down as funda- 
mental in regard to all laws partaking of a ceremonial char- 
acter, human and divine. So far as the ceremonial part is 
essential, it will be distinctly described in the command. 

The fourth command partakes of the ceremonial character 



THE SABBATH. 273 



A father's command to his b Dys. 



It is for the observance of a particular day. It specifies 
what day, but it does not specify at what hour it is to begin, 
and therefore we are left to begin it in correspondence with 
any common mode of computing time. 

But to illustrate the above-mentioned principle, for it 
seems to me that if it were cordially and fully admitted, it 
would save a vast number of disputes on many other sub- 
jects, — let us suppose that a father, about to be absent from 
his home, leaves his two boys with the simple direction that 
they should work a little while every day, in the garden 
Now it is obvious that under such a general order as this, 
the boys are not bound to consider themselves as limited to 
any particular time for doing their work. They must con- 
sider their father's design, in the command, and act in such 
a manner as to comply with the spirit of it ; but they may 
do as they please about the time of beginning. They may 
work in the morning, or in the evening, or at mid-day, ac 
cording to their own convenience. 

Suppose, however, that the father had been a little more 
specific, and had said, " I wish you, my boys, while I am 
absent, to work a feio hours every forenoon in the garden." 
This would have been somewhat more definite. And just 
so far as it is definite in regard to the time, just so far it 
would be binding in that respect. The boys would not now 
be at liberty to choose whether they would work in the fore- 
noon or in the afternoon, but still they would be at liberty in 
regard to the precise time of beginning. If one of the boys 
should attempt to prove that they ought to begin exactly at 
half-past eight, because the father had usually begun at that 
hour, or because the neighbors did, the other might reply, 
that the time of beginning was not specified in the en*r.- 
mand, and that they might accordingly, if they chose, begin 
at an earlier or later hour, if they only honestly fulfilled the 



274 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Tho question about the clock and the dial. 



command by working faithfully as much as they supposed 
their father meant by the expression, " a feiv hows." 

Let us, however, make the command more definite still. 
Imagine the father to have said, " I wish you, my sons, to 
spend from 9 till 12 o'clock, every day, in the garden, work- 
ing for me." This leaves them much less discretionary 
power. The time for beginning and ending is distinctly 
specified, and the command is binding, in regard to these 
points of form and manner, just so far as they are distinctly 
specified. Still there is room for a dispute. The spirit 
which makes so much of a controversy on the question 
whether holy time begins at sundown, or at midnight, would 
have easily made a controversy here. For we will suppose 
that there had been a clock in the hall of the house, and a 
dial in the garden. All my readers are aware, I presume, 
that a clock, if it is a good one, keeps regular, equal time ; 
but that there is some irregularity in the motions of tho 
heavenly bodies, which prevents the dial from always cor- 
responding with it exactly. Sometimes the dial, which 
marks apparent time, that is, what appears to be the time 
by the sun, is before, and sometimes behind the clocks ; for 
they mark the real, or true time, as it is called. Now, how 
easily might these boys get into a dispute on the question 
whether their father meant them to keep true or apparent 
time, that is, whether he meant them to begin by the clock 
or by the dial ! for sometimes the difference is fifteen min- 
utes. They might say that they must obey their father's 
command exactly, and each might undertake to show, from 
arguments drawn from the nature of time, which perhaps 
neither of them understood, or from the father's practice, or 
tut j-ractice of other workmen in the vicinity, that one 
method of computation or the other was the proper one. 
How unwise would this be ! The proper ground unques- 
tionably for boys in such a case to take would be, " It is no 



THE SABBATH. 275 



Universal principle. Two doves. 

matter which mode of reckoning we adopt ; it was not 
father's object to have us begin at any precise moment. " 
" If you prefer the clock," one might say, " I have no objec- 
tion to it. I think we have a right to take which we please, 
for father did not specify any thing in regard to it ; and if 
he had any preference, he would have stated it." 

Just so in regard to the Sabbath. The command is in 
substance, " Keep holy one day in seven." There is no 
minute specification in regard to the moment of commencing 
the day to be thus observed, we are at liberty therefore to 
commence it according to amy established and common 
method of computing time. 

May not then the principle stated above be considered as 
universal, in regard to obedience to all laws of a ceremonial 
nature ? So far as the form and manner are deemed 
essential, they are always distinctly expressed in the law. 
Look at the laws in these States for the solemnization of 
marriages : all that is essential is distinctly expressed. So 
with the laws in regard to the transfer of property : every 
form that is intended to be required is detailed in the statute. 
So with the purely ceremonial laws of the Jews. If a com- 
mand required the sacrifice of two doves, the Jew would 
plainly not feel at liberty to bring one or three, nor to offer, 
instead of the bird prescribed, vultures or sparrows. But he 
just as plainly would be at liberty to offer doves of any color ; 
he might choose black or white, or any other hue : and if 
his neighbor should say to him, " Your doves are not of the 
right kind ; nobody offers such doves as those ;" his proper 
reply w T ould be, "I obey the command. The color is not 
specified." So with Christians in keeping the Sabbath. It 
is not essential whether you begin at sundown or at mid- 
night ; if you keep the Sabbath faithfully and regularly 
according to one method or the other, you obey the com* 
mand ; the moment for beginning is not specified. 



#476 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A day of 23A hours. A day at *he pole. 

It seems to me that any person who endeavors to obtain a 
philosophical idea of the nature of our mode of computing 
time by days, must see the impossibility of marking any 
precise limit for the commencement and close of sacred time. 
Nothing is more indefinite, if we take an enlarged and philo- 
sophical view of the subject, than the word day. Astrono- 
mers commence it at twelve o'clock at noon. Some nations 
begin it at midnight. On shore it is reckoned as commencing 
at one hour, and at sea, as at another. The day, too, begins 
at a different time in every different place, so that a ship at 
sea, beginning a day in one place and ending it in another, 
sometimes will have 23£ and sometimes 24£ hours in her 
day, and no clock or time-piece whatever can keep her time. 
An officer of the ship is obliged to determine the beginning 
of their day every noon by astronomical observation. A sea 
captain can often make a difference of an hour in the length 
of his day, by the direction in which he steers his ship ; be- 
cause a day begins and ends in no two places, east and west 
of each other, at the same time. At Jerusalem they are six 
hours in advance of us in their time, and at the Sandwich 
Islands six hours behind. In consequence of this, it is evi- 
dent that the ship, changing her longitude, must every day 
change her reckoning. These sources of difficulty in mark- 
ing out the limits of a day, increase as we go toward the 
pole. A ship within fifty miles of the pole might sail round 
on a parallel of latitude, and keep it one continual noon or 
midnight all the year ; only noon and midnight would be 
there almost the same. At the pole itself all distinction 
between day and night entirely and utterly ceases ; summer 
and winter are the only change. Habitable regions do not 
indeed extend to the pole, but they extend far beyond any 
practical distinction between noon and midnight, or evening 
and morning. 

The difference between the times of commencing and of 



THE SABBATH. 277 



A day loist No sunset for months. Sabbaths in Greenland, 

ending days in different parts of the earth is so great, that 
a ship sailing round the globe, loses a whole day in her 
reckoning, or gains a whole day, according to the direction 
n which she sails. If she sets out from Boston, and passes 
round Cape Horn, and across the Pacific Ocean, to China, 
thence through the Indian and Atlantic Oceans home, she 
will find on her arrival, that it is Tuesday with her crew, 
when it is Wednesday on shore. Each of her days will have 
been a little longer than a day is in any fixed place, and of 
course she will have had fewer of them. So that if the 
passengers were Christians, and have endeavored to keep the 
Sabbath, they will not and can not have corresponded with 
any Christian nation whatever in the times of their observ- 
ance of it. I suppose my readers will believe these facts on 
my testimony ; but they will have a far more vivid idea of 
the truth in this case, if they will ask some sea captain, who 
has sailed round or half round the globe, if it is not so, and 
converse with him on some of the interesting questions and 
difficulties which arise from this peculiarity in the nature of 
the computation of time. • ' • '- 

But beside this difficulty arising from the variation in the 
time at different longitudes, there are also other causes which 
will produce greater difficulty still in the way of marking 
out a precise moment at which the boundary between sacred 
and common time is to be marked. As we go north or south 
from the equator, the lengths of the days increase in the 
summer season, until at last, as I have already intimated, in 
a certain latitude the sun ceases altogether to set for a period 
equal to many weeks of our reckoning. Now what will a 
man who supposes that our Maker meant to command all 
mankind to keep the Sabbath exactly from sunset to sunset, 
or from midnight to midnight- — what will such a man say 
to a Christian in Greenland, where the sun does not set fcj 
months together ? 



278 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Change to the first day. 



Is the moral law limited to latitude in its application, ol 
did the great Framer of it not know, or did he forget that 
the motions of the sun which he himself ordained, would give 
to some of the people to whom the command was addressed, 
no sunset or midnight for months at a time ? No ; it is 
absurd to press a written command to any greater strictness, 
in regard to the form and manner of its observance, than 
the letter expresses. God says to us simply, " Keep holy one 
day in seven." We may reckon that day in any of the 
common methods of computing time. If it was customary 
in old times to reckon the day from sundown to sundown, 
the servants of God would probably reckon their Sabbaths 
so too. If it is customary now to reckon from midnight to 
midnight, we may reckon our Sabbath so. We must 
keep the command in its spirit, but we need not press the 
form any farther than the letter of the command itself 
presses it. 

The same principles apply to the change from the seventh 
day to the first. This is not an alteration of the command, 
but only of 'practice under the command, in a point which 
the letter of tire law does not fix. Christians labor six days 
and rest the seventh now. By our artificial nomenclature 
we call it the first ; but that does not alter the real nature 
of the command, which is simply, that after every six days 
of labor there shall be regularly one of rest. This require- 
ment has never been changed or touched ; it stands among 
the ten commands, unaltered and unalterable, like all the 
rest. The practice, in a point not fixed by the phraseology 
of the command, is indeed altered ; but that no more affects 
obedience to the law than a change from parchment to paper, 
in the drawing up of a legal instrument, would violate a law 
which did not prescribe the material. Who would think of 
saying in such a case, " The law has been altered ; — when 
the statute was enacted, the universal practice was, to write 



THE SABBATH. 279 



No change in the command. The cr&alion. 

upon parchment, and now men universally use paper ; — "we 
can find no authority for the change, and consequently the 
law is broken ?" The law would not be broken unless it 
unequivocally mentioned parchment in contra-distinction 
from all other materials. The day then in present use is to 
be continued as the holy time until it is changed by proper 
authority, and the change made known in a proper manner. 
But that authority and that manner need not be by any 
means so formal as was the original command, because it does 
not alter that command at all ; it only alters practice arising 
under the command, and that in a point which the law itself 
does not specify. 

Some one may perhaps, however, say that the Sabbath 
was established in commemoration of the rest of Jehovah 
after the creation, and that this object is lost by the change 
of day. But a moment's reflection will remove this difficulty. 
After seven weeks had passed, the Sabbath would come on 
the forty-ninth day after the creation. Isow suppose it had 
then been changed, by being moved one day forward, so as to 
come on the fiftieth ; who can give any good reason why the 
fiftieth day may not as well be celebrated in commemoration 
of the creation as the foiiy-ninth. Besides, if the precise 
time of God's resting is to be reckoned at all, it is to be 
reckoned according to the culmination of the sun at Eden, 
and the day there is many hours in advance of us here ; 
so that strict, precise accuracy, in regard to hours and 
minutes, is, in every view of the case, entirely out of the 
question ; and the fact that the command does not attempt 
to secure it, gives evidence that it was intended for general 
circulation among mankind. To a person standing still in 
one place, and looking no farther than to his own limited hori- 
zon, the word day seems definite enough ; but when a voice 
from Mount Sinai speaks to the whole world, commanding 
all men, at sea and on land, in the Arctic regions, and undex 



280 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Principle important. 



an equinoctial sun, under every meridian and at every paral- 
lel, to remember one day in seven and keep it holy, there 
must be great diversity in the form and moment of obedience. 
We can not, looking over the whole field, find a precise and 
universal limit. The command, if we consider it as address- 
ed to the world, is entirely indefinite in regard to the precise 
period of the commencement and close of sacred time ; but 
the great principle of it is clear : — Keep one day in seven, 
according to some common mode of computation, holy to the 
Lord. 

I should not have spent so much time in endeavoring to 
prove that minute accuracy in regard to the form and man- 
ner of obeying this command is unattainable, were it not that 
this discussion involves a principle which applies to many 
other cases ; so that if you are induced to see its reasonable- 
ness, and to admit its force fully and cordially in this case, 
you will be saved from a great deal of useless perplexity 
about the minutiae of form in a great many other cases. 
Remember then this principle, that commands are to be 
obeyed in their spirit, except when the precise form is a 
matter of positive and distinct specification. 

I have one or two practical remarks to make in reference 
to this part of my subject. 

1. In respect to those points of duty on which the Scrip- 
tures give no direct instructions, you will do well to conform 
to the customs of Christians around you. If you live in a 
community where the Sabbath is generally commenced on 
Saturday evening, begin yours at that time : conform not 
only to this, but in all other unimportant points ; kneel, or 
stand, or sit at prayers, as other people do around you. I 
have known persons so controlled by the determination to 
have their own way in little things, and to consider all other 
ways wrong, that they could not sit at table while a blessing 



THE SABBATH. 28! 



Non-essentials. Liability to evasion. 

was asked, as is the common custom in many places, with- 
out being very much shocked at the imaginary irreverence. 
Some men will be pained if a minister say ice in the pulpit, 
and others will quarrel with him if he says I ; and a grave 
discussion is sometimes carried on, on such points as these, 
in religious journals. One Christian can not endure a written 
prayer ; another can not bear an extempore one. A is trou- 
bled if there is an organ in the church, and B thinks that 
music at church is nothing without one. C will almost 
leave the meeting-house if he should see the minister come 
in wearing a silk gown ; and D would be equally shocked at 
seeing him in the ordinary dress of a layman. Now all this 
is wrong. These points are not determined by any express 
command in the Bible, and consequently they are left to the 
varying taste and convenience of mankind. Every person 
may perhaps have a slight preference, but this preference he 
ought at all times to be willing to give up, in consideration 
of the wishes and feelings of his Christian brother. He who 
intends to do good in this world, must go about among man- 
kind with a spirit which will lead him to conform, easily and 
pleasantly, with the customs of men, except in those cases 
where the letter or the spirit of the Bible forbids it. 

This discussion brings to our notice what may be con- 
sidered a striking characteristic of the requirements of the 
law of God, namely that they are peculiarly liable to evasion 
Their peculiarity in this respect, is, in fact, one great source 
of their power as a means of moral discipline. Human laws 
are very different from the divine laws in this respect, be- 
cause the object w r hich they aim at is different. The design 
of human laws is simply to prevent outward acts of crime on 
account of the injury which they do ; that of the divine law, 
on the other hand, is to improve and perfect the inward char- 
acter. The difference of design leads to great dissimilarity in 
the forms of the enactments, by which the respective codes 



282 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Human and divine laws. 



are promulgated. How much pains do men take, when 
making laws, to cut off every possible chance of escape, by 
specifying with minute accuracy all the details of transgres- 
sion ! Hence the enactments of men are very voluminous. 
The laws of a state on the subject of theft will fill a volume ; 
but God disposes of the whole subject in four words, " Thou 
shalt not steal." The human lawgiver studies to cut off, 
by the fullness and legal accuracy of his language, every op- 
portunity for quibbling or evasion ; but if any man wishes to 
escape from the laws of God by quibbling and evasion, he 
may ; the door is wide open ; and that is what gives the law 
of God its admirable adaptedness to be the means of moral 
discipline to the human soul. 

The reason why it produces this effect is this : The more 
strict and minute are the details of a command, the less room 
is there for the exercise of fidelity and voluntary obedience 
The command in regard to the Sabbath for example, might 
have been so precise and specific, that the whole world should 
know exactly the moment when the sacred time is to begin, 
and exactly the manner in which its hours are to be spent ; 
nay more, God might have so interrupted the course of 
nature, that all the business of life must necessarily have 
ceased, and men have thus been compelled to rest on the 
Sabbath. But this would have been no moral trial ; it 
would have afforded no moral discipline. God does not 
accordingly adopt such a course. He expresses his command 
in general and simple language. They who wish to obey, 
can easily ascertain what they ought to do ; and they who do 
not, will easily find excuses. 

There are some, and perhaps many, who make the 
question whether Saturday or Sunday evening is to be 
kept, an excuse for keeping neither. But those who ivish 
to obey God's commands will keep one or the other faith- 
fully ; and one great design in having uncertainty in sucli 



THE SABBATH. 283 



Spirit of the law. James's way of reading the Bible. 

cases as this is unquestionably to try its- — to prove who does 
and who does not wish, on vain pretexts, to evade God's 
commands. 

I proceed to consider the spirit and manner in which the 
Sabbath should be kept. 

The object of the Sabbath is to interpose an effectual in- 
terruption to all worldly business, and to promote as highly 
as possible the improvement of the character. Do then 
these two tilings : 1st, suspend all worldly pursuits ; and 2d, 
spend the day in such a manner as will best promote your 
spiritual improvement. The first point is easy ; I shall 
therefore pass it by, and direct my attention immediately to 
the last. 

There are wise and there are unwise ways of keeping the 
Sabbath holy. James is a boy who has set his heart upon 
reading the Bible through in as short a time as possible, and 
he thinks that there is no other way of spending the Sabbath 
so properly as by carrying forward this good work with all 
his strength. He carries his Bible to bed with him at night, 
and places it under his pillow, that he may read in it as 
soon as it is light in the morning. You may see him at 
breakfast-time counting up the chapters that he has read, 
and calculating how long it will take him at that rate to get 
through a certain book. He can hardly wait for family 
prayers to be over, he is so eager to press forward his work. 
He reads a great many chapters in the course of the day, and 
lies down at night congratulating himself on his progress ; 
but, alas ! he has made no progress in piety. His perusal 
of sundry chapters in the Bible, as if he were reading for a 
wager, is not progress in piety. He has spent the day with- 
out examining his heart. He has not made resolutions foi 
future duly. He has not learned to be a more dutiful son, a 
more affectionate brother, or a more humble and devote! 



284 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A boy studying the Bible. The boat 

Christian. No, he has read twenty chapters in the Bible ! 
That is all. He has been making no new discoveries of his 
secret sins, has obtained no new views of his duty, has not 
drawn nigh to God and found peace and happiness in com- 
munion with him ; no, he has had no time for that ; he has 
been busy all day running over his twenty chapters in the 
Bible ! It were well if James were aware that his real mo- 
tive for this work is the pride of thinking and perhaps of tell- 
ing others how much he has read, and that the cultivation of 
such a spirit is a bad way of spending God's holy day. I 
would not say a word against reading the Bible, but it must 
be read in a proper manner. A person may waste every 
hour of the Sabbath, and yet do nothing but read the Bible 
from morning to night. 

Many young persons think there is no way to break the 
Sabbath but by work or play. But the spirit and meaning 
of the fourth commandment undoubtedly is, that the Sabbath 
should be devoted to the real improvement of the Christian 
character. And if this is neglected, the Sabbath is broken, 
no matter in what way its hours have been spent. 

Yes, if this is neglected, the command is disobeyed ; no 
formal attention to any external duty whatever can be made 
a substitute for it. A boy sits at his window studying his 
Sabbath- school lesson ; his object, I will suppose, is not to 
learn his duty and to do it, but he wishes to surpass some 
companion at the recitation, or is actuated it may be by a 
mere selfish desire to obtain a reward which has been perhaps 
injudiciously offered him ; he looks out of the window across 
the valley which extends before his father's house, and sees 
upon a beautiful pond there, a boatful of his playmates, push- 
ing off from the shore. They are going out on an excursion 
of pleasure. 

" Ah !" says he, " those wicked boys ! they are breaking 
the Sabbath !" 



THE SABBATH 



285 



Self-rishteousncss. 



The careful mother. 




SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS. 



Yes, they are breaking the Sabbath ; and so is he ; both 
they and he are perverting the holy day. God looks at the 
heart, and requires that all should spend the Sabbath in 
honest efforts to discover, and confess, and abandon sin, and 
to become pure and holy and devoted to him. Now, both the 
boys in the boat and the one at the window are neglecting 
this. They are doing it for the pleasure of a sail ; he is do- 
ing it for the honor of superiority in his class. The day is 
misspent and perverted in both cases. 

Mrs. X. is the mother of several children, and she is ex 
ceedingly desirous that all her family should faithfully keep 
the Sabbath. She can not bear the thought that it shonld 
be profaned by any under her roof. Before sacred time comes, 
therefore, the whole house is put in order, all worldly busi- 
ness is brought to a close, so that the minds of her family 



286 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The careful mother. 



may be free. All this is excellent ; but how does she actu- 
ally spend the sacred hours ? Why, her whole attention is 
devoted to enforcing the mere external duties of religion in 
her household. She is careful to banish every secular book ; 
she requires one child to sit still and read the Bible ; another 
she confines to a prayer-book, or to some good book of reli- 
gious exhortation ; a third is kept studying a Sabbath-school 
lesson. All however must be still ; it is her great desire and 
aim to banish every thing like worldly work or play. There 
must be no light conversation, and even the little infant, 
creeping upon the floor, has to relinquish her playthings, and 
spend the day in inaction. 

Now, when night comes, this mother thinks that she has 
kept the Sabbath, and induced her household to keep it too ; 
and perhaps she has done so. But all that I have described 
does not prove that she has kept it according to God's original 
design. God did not institute the Sabbath in order merely 
that children might be kept from play, or that they might be 
forced to read, mechanically, good books ; but that they 
might improve their characters, and make real preparation 
for another ivorld. Now, unless a mother adopts such 
methods as shall most effectually promote the improvement 
of her children, and unless she succeeds in interesting them 
in it, she does not attain the object in view. If your children 
are spending the day in a cold and heartless manner, com- 
plying with your rules from mere fear of your authority, they 
are not, properly speaking, keeping the Sabbath. The end 
in view, improvement of character, is not attained. 

But many a mother who reads this will ask, " How can 1 
interest my children in such efforts for improvement ?" You 
will find a hundred ways, if you will set your heart upon it. 
The only danger is, that you will not fully feel the necessity 
of it. You are satisfied, or there is great danger tt at you 
will be satisfied, with the mere formality of external decorurr 



THE SABBATH. 287 



Way to interest children. 



on the Lord's-day, forgetting that the empire in which your 
influence ought to reign on that day, is the empire of the heart, 
not of the external conduct. You ought, therefore, to aim at 
adopting such means of addressing and influencing your 
children as shall seem best calculated to reach and control 
their hearts. If you really wish to do this, and really en- 
deavor to do it, you will soon learn the way. 

Imagine such a scene as this : A mother, with several 
children under eight or ten years of age, collects them in her 
chamber on a pleasant Sabbath afternoon in summer, and 
with a cheerful countenance and pleasant tone of voice, when 
all are seated, addresses them as follows : 

" Now, my children, you know that the Sabbath is in- 
tended to give us time and opportunity to improve our char- 
acters. I suppose you wish to do this. The way to do it is, 
first, to find out your faults, and then to correct them. Are 
you willing to try to find out your faults ?" 

" Yes, mother." 

" I have thought of this plan. How should you like it ? 
I will pause a minute or two, and we will all try to think of 
faults that we have seen among ourselves within a week. 
You may try, and I will try. After a minute or two. I will 
ask you all around. Should you like to do this ?" 

A mother who is accustomed to manage her children in a 
proper manner, with habitual kindness and affection, will re- 
ceive a cordial assent to such a proposal as this. After a 
few minutes she puts the question round : 

" Mary, have you thought of any thing ?" 
' Yes, mother ; I think that John and I quarrel some 
times.' ' 

" Do you think of any case which happened last week ?" 

Mary hesitates, and John looks a little confused. 

"You may do just as you please," says the motiier, 
" about describing it. It is unpleasant to think and talk 



288 1GUNG CHRISTIAN 



Conversation with the children. 



about our faults, and of course it will be unpleasant for you 
to describe particularly any thing wrong which you have 
done. But then if you do honestly and frankly confess it, I 
think you will be much less likely to do wrong in the same 
way next week. ,, 

Mary then relates, in her own simple style, the story of 
some childish contention, not with the shrinking and hesi- 
tation of extorted acknowledgment, but openly and frankly, 
and in such a manner as greatly to diminish the danger of 
falling into such a sin again. When she has said all that 
she has to say, which however may perhaps have been ex- 
pressed in two or three sentences, the mother continues, ad- 
dressing herself to the others : 

" Well, children, you have heard what Mary has said 
Have you observed any thing in her expressions which 
tended to show that she has wished to throw the chief blame 
of this dispute upon John ?" 

They will probably say, Yes. A child would not be a 
very impartial historian in such a case, and other children 
would be very shrewd to detect the indications of bias. 

" Now I do not know," says the mother, " but that John 
was really the most to blame. Mary told the story, on the 
whole, in a very proper manner. I only asked the question, 
to remind you all that our object is now to learn our oivn 
faults, and to correct them ; and you must all try to see as 
much as possible where you yourselves have been to blame." 

She then turns to some passages of the Bible on the sub- 
ject of forbearance and harmony between brothers and sisters, 
and reads them — not for the purpose of loading her children 
with invective and reproach, or telling them, with a coun- 
tenance of assumed solemnity, how wicked they have been 
— but of kindly and mildly pointing out what God's com- 
mands are, and the necessity as well as the happiness of 
obeying them. 



THE SABBATH. 289 



Ingenuity and effort necessary. The heart to be reached. 

If this is done in a proper manner, and- if the mother re- 
members that she must watch the feelings of her little 
charge, and apply her means of influence dexterously and 
skillfully, she will succeed, certainly after one or two trials, 
in producing a dislike of contention, a desire to avoid it, and 
a resolution to sin, in this respect, no more. She may in the 
same manner go through the circle ; fault after fault will 
oe brought up ; the nature and the consequences of them 
kindly pointed out, and those commands of God, which bear 
upon the subject, plainly brought to view. The interview 
may be closed by a short and simple prayer — that God will 
forgive, for Christ's sake, the sins which the children have 
confessed, and give them all strength to resist temptation 
during the coming week. Such an exercise, if managed as 
every kind and faithful mother can manage it, must certainly 
succeed ; the children will go away from it with consciences 
relieved in some degree from the burden of sin ; they will 
look back upon it as a serious, but a pleasant interview, and 
will feel — though a wise mother will not be over anxious to 
draw from them an expression of that feeling — that it is a 
happy thing to repent of sin, and to return to duty. I asked 
my readers at the outset, to imagine this scene ; but, in fact, 
it is not an imaginary scene — in substance, it is reality. 

This, now, is a proper keeping of the Sabbath. Such an 
influence comes to the heart, and it accomplishes directly 
and immediately the very object that Jehovah seems to have 
had specially in view in the appointment of the Sabbath. I 
only offer it, however, as a specimen ; if repeated in exactly 
this form every Sabbath, the sameness might become tire- 
some. The idea which I mean to convey is, that the heart 
must be reached, and the process of improvement must be 
advancing, or the object of the Sabbath is lost. Let my 
young readers remember this. Unless you are improving 
and elevating your characters, discovering your , faults and 

N 



290 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Variety. Remarks of a clergyman. 



correcting them, learning God's will as it applies to your 
own conduct, and confessing and forsaking your sins — unless 
you are doing such work as this, you can not be keeping the 
Sabbath day. The simple question then is, are you willing 
to devote honestly and conscientiously one day in seven to 
real and sincere efforts to make progress in piety ? 

If you are willing, and every Christian certainly will be, 
you are not to go forward blindly, reading and reflecting 
without system or plan, on the vain supposition that if the 
mind is actually employed on religious subjects, all is going 
on well. You must take into careful consideration the nature 
of the human mind, and the means which, according to the 
laws which the Creator has given it, are most calculated to 
have an influence over it. This principle will require atten- 
tion to several points. 

1. Variety in the exercises of the Sabbath. While re 
fleeting upon this topic, and considering how I should pre- 
sent it here, I accidentally fell into conversation with a 
clergyman who had had far more experience as a religious 
teacher than I have enjoyed. I requested him to reduce to 
writing the views which he expressed, that I might insert 
them here. He soon after sent me the following : 

" Many Christians who feel deeply the importance of 
spending the Sabbath in a proper manner, find, notwith- 
standing all their endeavors, that the sacred hours do at times 
pass heavily and wearily along. Now the Sabbath should 
be not only our most profitable, but our most happy day. I 
once knew a young Christian who resolved that he would 
keep the Sabbath in the most perfect manner possible, by 
passing the whole time in prayer ; he did so, but very soon he 
became exhausted and weary. He however persevered 
through the whole day, with the exception of a few neces- 
«ary interruptions ; and when night came, he felt a deadness 



THE SABBATH. 2yl 



Necessity of variety. Religious books. 

and exhaustion of feeling which he unhappily mistook foi 
spiritual desertion. No human mind can, in ordinary cases, 
sustain very long and intense application to one subject ; 
there must be variety, or the efforts that are made, however 
well meant and however faithfully persevered in. will result 
in mental exhaustion, listlessness, and spiritual lethargy. 

" Let the sacred hours of the Sabbath, then, be appro- 
priated to a variety of religious employments. Let us sup- 
pose the case of a young man. — the head of a family, — who 
wishes to pass the Sabbath in a way acceptable to God, and 
to enjoy his religious duties. Let us follow him through the 
hours of the day, and see what his arrangements might prop- 
erly be : 

" He rises early in the morning, and commences the day 
with a short, but fervent prayer, for the divine blessing ; he 
then passes the time till breakfast, in reading the Bible. 
Perhaps, for the sake of variety, he spends a part of the time 
in reading the devotional portions, and a part in perusing its 
interesting history. At the breakfast-table, with cheerful 
countenance and heart, he leads the conversation to religious 
subjects ; after breakfast he passes an hour in reading some 
valuable religious book, — some one of those standard, prac- 
tical works upon Christianity that are now easily to be ob- 
tained by all. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Baxter's Saint's 
Rest, Law's Serious Call, Doddridge's Piise and Progress. 
kc. are works of standard merit, and works with which all 
Christians may, and should be acquainted. It is very de- 
sirable that the Christian should have on hand some book 
like one of these, which he will read in course, taking a 
moderate portion every Sabbath day, until he has finished it. 

"At length the time arrives for the assembling of his 
family for morning prayers. He adheres to his principle, of 
endeavoring to secure an interesting variety, here. Some- 
times he will read religious intelligence from a periodical, — 



292 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Way of spending the Sabbath. Various duties. 

and sometimes an interesting narrative from a tract, — always 
taking care to select something which will excite attention. 
After finishing this, he opens the Bible and selects some 
appropriate passage, and reads it, with occasional remarks 
intended to deepen the impression upon his own mind, and 
upon the minds of those in the circle around him. He 
then selects a hymn, and after singing a few verses, if the 
family are able to sing, bows at the family altar in prayer. 
The variety which he has thus introduced into the exercise 
has continued to interest the feelings of all, and no occasion 
has been offered for lassitude or tedium. 

" He now walks the room for exercise, and reviews the 
past week ; he thinks of the opportunities to do good which 
he has neglected, examines his feelings and his conduct, and 
in ejaculatory prayer, seeks forgiveness. When he enters 
the place of public worship his mind is ready for active ser- 
vice there. He really unites with his pastor in the public 
prayer. When a hymn is read, he attends to the sentiment, 
and makes melody in heart to God when singing his praises. 
He listens attentively to the sermon, feeling that the respon- 
sibility of being interested in it comes upon him, and he 
prays that God will bless it to his own soul, and to the con- 
version of others. 

" Perhaps, in the interval between forenoon and afternoon 
service, he has a class in the Sabbath School, or is himself a 
member of the Bible class : these duties he performs with a 
sincere desire to do good. After the close of the afternoon 
services he retires to his closet for secret prayer. He appro- 
priates a proper period to this duty, and presents his own 
private and personal wants, and the spiritual interests of 
others, in minute detail to God ; — he looks forward, too, to 
the duties of the week ; he brings before his mind the temp- 
tations to which he will be exposed, the opportunities for 
exerting a Christian influence which he possesses, and forms 



THE SABBATH. 293 



Way of closing tho Sabbath. System in religious exercises. 

his plans of Christian usefulness for the week ; he thinks of 
some good object which he will make an effort to advance, 
or of some individual whom he will endeavor to lead to the 
Savior. He forms his resolutions, and perhaps writes them 
down that he may refer to them again the next Sabbath, in 
the review of the week. At the appointed hour he assembles 
his family for evening prayers. A brief reference to the 
religious exercises of the day, or the reading of some interest- 
ing narrative, followed by the reading of the Bible, singing 
and prayer, again give variety and animation to the exercise ; 
and when all the duties of the day are over, as he is retiring 
to rest, he feels that the Sabbath has been profitably and 
happily spent. It has been to him a rich season of improve- 
ment and of enjoymeut. He has made real progress in prep- 
aration for heaven ; he has obtained strength to meet the 
allurements and temptations of life. During the week he 
looks back upon the Sabbath with pleasure, and when the 
light of another holy morning dawns upon him, he can sin- 
cerely say, 

1 Welcome, delightful morn, 

Thou day of sacred rest 
I hail thy kind return — 

Lord make these moments blest.' 

" In this way the Sabbath is a delight. It is a day of 
refreshment, and the spirit of man longs eagerly for its 
approach. I have introduced the above example simply as 
an illustration of what I mean by saying that there should 
be variety in the exercises of the Sabbath. Probably no one 
who reads these pages will find it expedient to adopt precise- 
ly the course here described. But all may proceed upon tha 
vrinciple here explained, — each adapting his mdividua. 
plan to his own individual situation." 

2. System in the exercises of the Sabbath. Much time 



294 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



Waste of time { revented. Rest on the Sabbath. 

is often lost upon the Sabbath for want of a regular flan 
If a person reads for half an hour in the Bible, and then 
stops to consider what he shall take up next, his mind is 
perplexed. He says, " Shall I now retire for secret prayer, 
or shall I read a tract, or shall I take Baxter's Saints' Rest ?" 
Several moments are lost in deciding. Perhaps he takes 
Baxter ; but while reading, he stops to consider again whether 
it would not have been better to have chosen something else ; 
and then his mind is diverted from this book by thinking 
what he shall next read ; thus much time is lost, and the 
mind is perplexed. It is, therefore, wisdom to have a plan 
previously formed for the whole day. With a little reflec- 
tion a plan may easily be arranged, appropriating systemati- 
cally the time of the Sabbath to the several duties which 
ought to be performed. Many persons constantly do this. 
In all cases there will indeed be a liability to unavoidable 
interruptions. But we may derive much assistance from 
rules, without making ourselves slaves to them. If you have 
domestic duties which must be performed upon the Sabbath, 
have them performed, if possible, by a given hour, that they 
may not intrude upon all the hours of the sacred day. If 
you are constantly exposed to interruptions, if there is no 
time of the day which you can call your own, then let your 
plans be formed in accordance with this peculiarity in your 
situation. 

3. Rest on the Sabbath. "We ought to remember that 
God has ordained the Sabbath as a day of rest from labor, 
as well as a day of spiritual improvement, and it ought to be 
made such. 

It is undoubtedly wrong to apply our minds so uninter- 
ruptedly to religious duties during the day, as to feel worn 
out and exhausted at night. There are indeed some excep- 
tions ; ministers and Sabbath-school teachers must, in fact, 
often do a very hard day's work on the Sabbath ; they rxa 



THE SABBATH. 295 



Distinct duties to be performed. 



laboring for the religious good of others, and must be often 
fatigued by their efforts. But Christians, generally, must 
not so fill up the hours with mental labor as to prevent 
them from enjoying the rest which God requires on his holy 
day. 

These three points, variety, system, and rest, ought to be 
attended to in order to secure the greatest possible moral 
progress on that day. A teacher of a school would be very 
unwise, were he to require his pupils to spend the whole of 
a day in actual study — and still more so if he were to keep 
them during all that time employed upon one single book or 
subject. Nor should he, on the other hand, relinquish all 
system, and employ his pupils every hour in doing whatever 
should happen to suggest itself to his thoughts. He knows 
that his pupils will actually advance more rapidly if he 
systematizes, and at the same time varies, their exercises, 
and allows intervals of rest and recreation. The Christian, 
too, who watches the movements of his own mind — and every 
Christian ought tc do this — will soon learn that he must 
adopt substantially the same plan, if he wishes to make rapid 
progress in piety. 

I will now proceed to mention, in order to be specific, 
several duties which I think ought to be performed on the 
Sabbath. I advisa every one of my readers, immediately 
after perusing my account of these duties, to sit down and 
form a plan for himself, assigning to each one of them an 
appropriate place, devoting an hour or half an hour to each, 
according to his age, and his circumstances in other respects. 
This plan ought not, however, to occupy all the hours of the 
day ; some time should be left unappropriated, to allow op- 
portunity for rest, and for performing such duties as may from 
time to time arise to view. Make your plan, however, and 
resolve to try it at least for one Sabbath. You can then 



296 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Way to make self-examination interesting and useful. 

consider whether to continue it, or to modify it, or to aban 
don it altogether. 

1. Selfexamiiuztion. I do not mean by this, the mere 
asking of yourself some general questions in regard to your 
spiritual condition, a minute revieiv of the various actual 
occurrences of the week, to see what you have done, and 
what motives have actuated you. You can attend to this 
most successfully, by considering the subject under several 
distinct heads. 

(1.) Your ultimate object of pursuit. Consider what has 
chiefly interested and occupied you during the week, and 
what is the final, ultimate object which you have in view 
in what you have been doing. Review all the labors that 
have been connected with that pursuit, whatever it may be, 
and find in what respects you have been pursuing your ob- 
ject with a wrong spirit. 

(2.) Duties to parents. Consider what has been your con- 
duct toward your parents, if you are still connected with 
them. Have they had occasion to reprove you during the 
week, or to be dissatisfied with you in any respect ? If 
so, what was the cause ? Think over the whole occurrence, 
and see wherein you were to blame in it. Look also at 
your habitual conduct toward your parents, or to those un- 
der whose care you are placed. Have you at any time 
disobeyed them, or neglected to obey them with alacrity ? 
Have you had any dispute with them, or been sullen or 
ill-humored on account of their measures ? You must look 
also to the other side of the question, and consider what 
good you have done to your parents. Self-examination 
implies the investigation of what is right in the character, 
as well as what is wrong. What good, then, have you 
done to your parents ? In what cases did you comply with 
their wishes when you were tempted not to comply ? "When 
did you give them pleasure by your attention, or by youi 



I HE SABBATH. 297 



Minuteness of self-examination. 



faithful and ready obedience to their commands ? You can 
spend half an hour most profitably, not in merely answer- 
ing these individual questions, but in a careful review of 
all your conduct toward your parents, going into minute 
detail. 

(3.) Duties to companions. What has been your deport- 
ment toward your companions ? How many have you made 
happier during the past week ? What good have you done, 
and by what means did you accomplish it ? How many, 
too, have you made unhappy ? If you have had any con- 
tention with any one, call to mind all the circumstances of 
it — the angiy or reproachful, or ill-humored words which 
you have used, and the spirit of heart which you cherished. 
It will require a long time to review thoroughly all those 
events of a week which illustrate the spirit with which you 
have acted toward your companions. 

(4.) Fidelity in business. You have some employment- in 
which you ought to have been diligent and faithful during the 
week. Review minutely your conduct in this respect ; be- 
gin with Monday morning, and come down to Saturday nighx, 
and see, by a careful examination of the labors of the week, 
whether you have been "diligent in business, fervent in spirit, 
serving the Lord." 

(5.) Secret sins. This is the most important part of self- 
examination . If you have committed secret sins, if you have 
indulged unholy thoughts and desires, if you have cherished 
malignant feelings toward others, if you have been tempted 
to any improper gratification, if you have done in secret what 
you would blush to find exposed to public view, examine 
yourself and repent. Explore the whole ground thoroughly, 
that you may confess and forsake such sins. 

I might mention a number of other similar points, but it is 
unnecessary, as my object is only to show that self-examina- 
tion, to be effectual, must be minute, and must be brought 

N* 



298 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Prayer. Sludying the Bible and conversation on the Sabbath. 

to bear immediately and directly upon the actual conduct. 
You will succeed much better, if you divide the ground in 
some such manner as above described. 

2. Prayer. This is the second duty which I shall men- 
tion, for which a place ought to be particularly assigned on 
the Sabbath. I have in several places in this book alluded 
to the subject of prayer, and I shall merely state here in what 
respects prayer on the Sabbath should be peculiar. More 
time should be allotted to the exercise, and it should also 
take a wider range. Consider your whole character, and look 
back upon the past, and forward to the future, so as to take a 
comprehensive view of your condition and prospects, and let 
your supplications be such as this extended survey will suggest. 

There is one thing, however, which I ought to say here, 
though I shall speak more distinctly of it in a subsequent 
chapter. It is this : Take a firm and immovable stand in 
the 'performance of the duty of secret prayer. Let nothing 
tempt you to neglect, or postpone, or curtail it, or pass over 
the season of your communion with God in a hurried and 
formal manner. Neglect of the closet is the beginning of 
backsliding, and the end of happiness and peace. 

3. Study of the Bible. In the chapter devoted expressly 
to this subject, I have mentioned a variety of methods by 
which the study of the Bible may be made more interesting 
and profitable than it now ordinarily is. Every young Chris- 
tian ought to allot a specific and regular time, every Sabbath 
day, to the systematic study of the Bible by some such methods 
as those. 

4. Conversation. The older and more intelligent mem- 
bers of a family may do much toward causing the day to pass 
pleasantly and profitably, by making some effort to prepare 
subjects for conversation. Suppose a family take such a 
course as this : — A daughter, studying the Bible alone in her 
chamber, finds some difficult and. yet interesting question 



THE SABBATH. 299 

Conversation on the Sabbath. Frivolous conversation. 

arising from the passage she is investigating. " I will ask 
about it at dinner," she says ; " my brothers and sisters will 
be interested in the question, and in father's answer ; for per- 
haps he will be able to answer it." The mother is reading 
some Christian biography, and coming to an interesting pas- 
sage, she says to herself, " I will relate this story at dinner to- 
day, it will interest the children." The father inquires 
mentally, as the dinner hour approaches, " What shall we 
talk about to-day?" Perhaps he recollects some occurrence 
which has taken place during the week, which illustrates 
some religious truth, or is an example of religious duty. Thus 
each one comes to the table prepared to contribute something 
to the common stock of conversation. The dinner-hour, in 
such a case, will not pass heavily ; all will be interested and 
profited by the remarks which will be made on the various 
topics which will come up. If any family into which this 
book may come, will really try this experiment, they will find 
in a very short time, that subjects for conversation will occur 
in far greater numbers, and excite much greater interest than 
they would at first have supposed. There may even be an 
agreement made at breakfast, that each one of the family 
will endeavor to bring forward some fact or some question at 
dinner, and then the father may call upon all in turn. 

A great many persons imagine that conversation is some- 
thing that must be left entirely to itself — that there can be no 
preparation for it, and no arrangements made to secnre in- 
terest and profit from it. But the truth is, if there is any 
thing which demands forethought and arrangement, it is this 
very business of conversation — especially religious conversa- 
tion on the Sabbath. "Without some such efforts as I have 
above described, the Christian family, when assembled at 
dinner or tea, must spend the time in silence, or in making 
frivolous remarks, such as criticisms upon the preacher, or such 
discussions as keep those who are conscientious constantly un- 



300 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Public worship. 



easy, because they doubt whether the subjects upon which they 
are speaking are suitable to the sacredness of the Lord's-day. 

Many persons have no idea of religious conversation, ex- 
cepting a forced and formal exhortation from the master of 
the family, or from a Christian minister. They can not un- 
derstand how a whole family can be interested, from the 
aged grandparent down to the youngest child, in a conversa- 
tion exactly calculated to promote the objects of the Sabbath. 
But let such persons make the simple experiment described 
above, and they will discover their mistake. The ways by 
which a family may be interested by means of judicious and 
ingenious efforts on the part of a parent or an older brother 
or sister, are very numerous. Sometimes a question may be 
proposed in regard to duty. A case may be imagined, or 
some real case which has actually occurred may be stated, 
and the question may be asked, what ought to be done in 
such a case ? Or some question may be proposed for dis- 
cussion, I do not mean for formal argument as in a parlia- 
mentary assembly, but for free interchange of opinion. 

5. Public Worshijy. It is surprising how strong a ten- 
dency there is among mankind, and even among Christians, 
to throw off the whole responsibility of public worship upon 
the minister. The disposition is almost universal. Come 
with me into this church and observe the congregation 
assembled. The minister reads a hymn, and while he is 
reading it, how great a proportion of the hearers are entirely 
regardless of its contents ! He rises to offer a prayer, and if 
we could see the hearts of those present, how many we should 
find who are really making no effort at all to accompany 
him to the throne of grace. At last he names his text ; and 
the eyes of almost all the assembly are turned toward him. 
As he looks over the congregation he sees an expression of 
interest upon the countenances of his hearers, and perhaps 
expects that they are going to listen to what he has to say 



THE SABBATH. 



01 



Responsibilities of the hearers. 



Tt e farmer and his bov§. 



He begins the delivery of his message, endeavoring to explain 
to his hearers the principles of duty, or to present the con- 
siderations which should nrge them to do it. Xow let nv 
ask while this exercise is going forward, upon whom does 
the responsibility of it chiefly ccrne ? Is it the duty of a 
minister to interest the people, or that of the people to he 
interested, by means of their own efforts to give heed to the 
message which the minister brings ? Are you. in receiving 
a message from above, to reject it, :r to listen to it carelessly 
and with an inattentive and listless air. because it is not pre- 
sented to you in such a manner as to compel you, by the 
novelty of its illustrations cr the beauty of its diction, to give 
it your regard ? 

A farmer sends his boys into a field to spend the day io 
work. He directs them what to do for an hour, and says 
that after that time he shall send a man to explain to then] 
how they are to proceed through the day. The boys go on 
with their work, until at length the expected messengei 
appears. He begins to 
tell them how the land 
is to be plowed, or in 
what way the father 
wishes the seed to be 
put into the ground. 
T;:e boys listen to him 
a minute or two. until 
one. perceiving some 
oddity in the man's 
manner, bursts into a 
laugh ; another sits 
down on a green bank 
under a tree, and grad- 
ually falls into a state . 
drowsy insensibility: a 




mz inattenti 1 



HIA?vIH5. 



302 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Duty of the hearers to be interested. 

third looks away with vacant countenance upon the hills and 
mountains around, utterly regardless of the message. The boy3 
oonsequently do not learn what their father wishes them to do, 
and do not do it ; and when night comes, and they are called 
to account in respect to the labors of the day, they attempt to 
justify themselves with this preposterous excuse: "Why," 
they say to their father, " the man that you sent us was not 
an interesting man, and so we did not pay any attention to his 
message. He had no talent at making his mode of explana- 
tion novel and striking and so we did not listen to it." "I 
could not possibly fix my attention," says one. " He was a 
very sleepy talker," says another ; " I could not keep awake." 
" He dressed so," says a third, " and he had such a tone of 
voice that I could not help laughing at him." 

Such are the excuses which many persons give for not 
giving heed to religious instructions on the Sabbath. They 
attempt to throw off all responsibility upon the minister ; 
and if he does not awaken, by the power of his genius, an 
interest in their minds, they consider themselves entirely ex- 
cused from feeling any. They say in substance to them- 
selves, " We know that we have disobeyed God, and that he 
is sending us messengers to communicate to us the ofiers of 
forgiveness for the past and direction for the future ; but un- 
less he sends us agreeable, and ingenious, and eloquent men, 
we will pay no attention to any of them." 

Who can stand in the judgment with such an excuse ? 
And yet it is the actual feeling of thousands. But, my 
reader, I do urge you to abandon altogether this plan of 
throwing off upon the minister whom Providence has sent 
to you, the responsibility of the interest you take in public 
instruction. It is his duty to deliver his message plainly 
and intelligibly, but it is your duty, most unquestionably, to 
be interested in it. Go to the meeting, feeling that you have 
something to do there. You must be interested in what 



THE SABBATH. 303 



Sinister motives at church. Way to detect them. 

you hear, if it is a plain exhibition of religious truth ; and 
you must apply it to your own conscience and heart by real 
active effort, or you must incur the guilt of rejecting the 
message from heaven. The less interesting the preacher 
then is, the more active and the more arduous is the duty of 
his hearers. They should look him steadily in the face, 
and listen in silence and in deep attention to what he has 
to say ; and feel at all times, that while it is the minister's 
duty to be faithful in delivering his message, it is their most 
imperious duty to take heed how they hear. 

There are a great many persons who are very constant in 
their attendance upon public worship, and who think that 
their motive is respect for religion, and a desire to obey 
God's commands ; when in fact they are controlled by other 
motives altogether. I do not mean by this that they attend 
public worship, and sustain by their influence the ordinances 
of religion, through a distinct and deliberate design of merely 
promoting, in some way, their own worldly interest by it. 
Actual, intentional hypocrisy, is a means which few men will 
knowingly adopt to accomplish their purposes. It is of so 
mean and base a quality, that even the honorable principles 
of this world are usually sufficient to preserve the breasts of 
men from its pollution. It is degrading and humiliating to 
admit it, knowingly and voluntarily, as a principle of action. 
The great danger which we have to fear is from a hypoc- 
risy, or something nearly allied to it, which comes in secrecy 
or disguise. It is not always an easy thing for us to decide 
by what motives we are governed in the actions which we 
perform. We are often swayed by inducements, of which, 
without rigid and impartial scrutiny, we are entirly uncon- 
scious ; for there may be one motive of fair and honorable 
appearance, which stands out in the view of the individual 
as the director of his actions ; and there may be another of 
far different character, which in reality guides him, but which 



304 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Hypocrisy a1 church. Pharisaism. 

ia coiled up like a mainspring, in a secret place, and thus eludes 
his observation. The Bible, when it teaches us that the 
heart is deceitful above all things, teaches us nothing which 
an unbiased observation of human nature will not every- 
where confirm. 

Now this sort of hypocrisy in disguise is very apt to be the 
inducement which influences men in the duties connected 
with public worship. We assemble with the congregation on 
the Sabbath ostensibly to join in the devotions, and to listen 
to the sermon, as if our motive were an honest desire to pro- 
mote our spiritual improvement ; and yet all the time it is, 
in fact, very probable that we are not actuated by any such 
motive at all. We go to the house of God because it is cus- 
tomary to go there, or because people will censure us if we 
do not go. Or for the purpose of seeing those whom we ex- 
pect to meet there, or for some other end totally unconnect- 
ed with the great design which the public services of the 
sanctuary were intended to subserve. We walk into the 
assembly with a very devout and reverent air. We assume 
humble postures and attitudes of worship, and appear to the 
eyes of our fellow-men, very intent upon the duties before us, 
while in fact our thoughts are turned wholly aside from the 
duty which we pretend to be performing. This is hypocrisy ; 
and however much we might be displeased at being pro- 
nounced hypocrites by others, we are, in fact, really hypo- 
crites, and our hypocrisy too, is of almost precisely the same 
type with that so terribly condemned by our Savior in his 
denunciations of the Pharisaic Jews. 

Let me urge my readers then to be careful hoiv they per- 
form the duties of public worship. The responsibility of 
being interested in them, and profited by them, comes upon 
you alone. You can not throw it off upon your minister. 
Examine yourself with reference to the spirit and feelings 
with which these duties are performed. They afford you a 



THE SABBATH. 305 



Appearance of evil. An example. 

very fine opportunity for close and faithful self-examination , 
for the sinister motives which, in a greater or less degree, 
undoubtedly exist in your hearts, will show themselves here. 

There is one thing more that I ought to present to the 
consideration of my readers before closing the chapter on this 
subject. It is this : 

In keeping the Sabbath, avoid all appearance of evil. I 
have endeavored in this discussion to accomplish two objects. 
First, to convince my readers that the mere form and man- 
ner in which the Sabbath is kept, except so far as it is a 
matter of express command, is not material ; and secondly, 
to convey to the mind a distinct idea of what I understand 
to be the spirit of the command, and to persuade all my 
readers to aim at producing, by the best means within their 
reach, upon their own hearts and lives, the effect which God 
had intended in the establishment of the institution. From 
these views of the subject, were I stop here, it might seem 
that if we take such a course as shall really secure our own 
religious improvement on the Sabbath, we may do it in any 
way ; for example, that we may walk, or ride, or visit, pro- 
vided that we so regulate and control our thoughts and con- 
versation as to make the spiritual improvement which it is 
the object of the day to secure. But no. We must avoid 
the appearance of evil. We must not seem to be breaking 
or disregarding God's commands, or do that which will give 
pain to Christian friends, whose views may be somewhat dif- 
ferent from ours. 

For example. A Christian living on the sea-shore, after 
having spent the day in the various duties which have pre- 
sented themselves to his attention, stands at the door of his 
house and looks out upon the glassy surface of the bay 
which stretches before him. It is a summer evening. The 
sun is just setting, throwing its bright beams over the water, 
and gilding every object upon which it shines. The Chris- 
tian looks over this scene of beauty, and its expression of 



306 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The summer evening. A walk. Walking, riding, sailing, 

calmness and peace is transferred to his own soul. He feels 
the presence of God in it all, and rejoices in the power and 
goodness of the great Being who reigns in every scene of 
beauty or of grandeur which nature exhibits. 

With his heart filled with such thoughts, he walks down 
upon the beach to indulge in the contemplation of God's 
goodness to mankind and to him. Now he is, it must be 
admitted, while doing this, accomplishing the object of the 
Sabbath by meditation on the character of God. He may 
say perhaps that his views of divine goodness and power are 
more distinct and vivid while he is walking out among the 
beauties of nature, if his heart is in a right state, than they 
would be if he were shut up in his study. Why then may 
he not walk out at evening ? 

And why may he not step into the little boat which floats 
in the cove, and unloose its chain and push himself off from 
the shore, that while rocked by the gentle, dying swell of the 
sea, he may lose himself more completely in the absorbing 
feeling of God's presence, and muse more uninterruptedly 
upon his Creator's power ? Shall he go ? 

No ; stop, Christian, stop. Before you spend your half- 
hour in a boat upon the water, or even in your evening 
walk, consider what will be the influence of the example 
you are going to set to others. Shall you appear, while you 
are doing this, to be remembering the Sabbath day to keep 
it holy ? Is it best, on the whole, that riding, walking, and 
sailing should be among the occupations of holy time ? Will 
God be honored and his Sabbath kept if all spend the Sab- 
bath evening as you are about to spend it ? 

These questions must be answered on a principle which 
will apply to multitudes of other cases. Take a course 
which, were it universally imitated, would promote the 
greatest good ; otherwise you may be doing that which, 
though safe for yourself, will be of incalculable injury, 
through the influence of your example, upon others. 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 307 



Trial and discipline. The steamboat on trial. 



CHAPTER X. 

TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 

" Strangers and pilgrims on the earth." 
I. NATURE OF TRIAL. 

The Bible everywhere conveys the idea that this life is 
not our home, but is a state of probation, that is, of trial and 
discipline, which is intended to prepare us for another. In 
order that all, even the youngest of my readers, may under- 
stand what is meant by this, I shall illustrate it by some 
familiar examples drawn from the actual business of life. 

When a large steamboat is built with the intention of 
having her employed upon the waters of a great river, she 
must be proved before put to service. Before trial, it is 
somewhat doubtful whether she will succeed. In the first 
place, it is not absolutely certain whether her machinery 
will work at all. There may be some flaw in the iron, or 
an imperfection in some part of the workmanship, which 
will prevent the motion of her wheels. Or if this is not the 
case, the power of the machinery may not be sufficient to 
propel her through the water with such force as to overcome 
the current ; or she may, when brought to encounter the 
rapids at some narrow passage in the stream, not be able to 
force her way against their resistance, 

The engineer therefore resolves to try her in all these re- 
spects, that her security and her power may be properly 
proved before she is intrusted with her valuable cargo of 



308 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 



Efforts of the engineer. Improvement*. 

human lives. He cautiously builds a fire under her boiler ; 
he watches with eager interest the rising of the steam-gage, 
and scrutinizes every part of the machinery as it gradually 
comes under the control of the tremendous power which he 
is gradually applying. With what interest does he observe 
the first stroke of the ponderous piston !— and when at length 
the fastenings of the boat are let go, and the motion is com- 
municated to the wheels, and the mighty mass slowly moves 
away from the land, how deep and eager an interest does he 
feel in all her movements and in every indication he can dis- 
cover of her future success ! 

The engine, however, works imperfectly, as every one 
must on its first trial ; and the object in this experiment is 
not to gratify idle curiosity by seeing that the boat will move, 
but to discover and remedy every little imperfection, and to 
remove every obstacle which prevents more entire success, 
For this purpose you will see our engineer examining, most 
minutely and most attentively, every part of her complicated 
machinery. The crowd on the shore may be simply gazing 
on her majestic progress, as she moves over the water, but 
the engineer is within, looking with faithful examination into 
all the minutiae of the motion. He scrutinizes the action of 
every lever and the friction of every joint ; here he oils a 
bearing, there he tightens a nut ; one part of the machinery 
has too much play, and he confines it — another too much 
friction, and he loosens it ; now he stops the engine, now 
reverses her motion, and again sends the boat forward in her 
course. He discovers, perhaps, some great improvement of 
which she is susceptible, and when he returns to the wharf 
and has extinguished the fire, he orders from the machine* 
shop the necessary alteration. 

The next day he puts his boat to the trial again, and she 
glides over the water more smoothly and swiftly than before. 
The jar which he had noticed is gone, and the friction re« 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 309 

Final results. Her power. 

duced ; the beams play more smoothly, and the alteration 
which he has made produces a more equable motion hi the 
shaft, or gives greater effect to the stroke of the paddles upon 
the water- 
When at length her motion is such as to satisfy him. upon 
the smooth surface of the river, he turns her course, we will 
imagine, towards the rapids, to see how she will sustain a 
greater trial. As he increases the steam, to give the engine 
power to overcome the new force with which she has to con- 
tend, he watches, with eager interest, the boiler, inspects the 
gage and the safety-valves, and from the movements of the 
boat under the increased pressure of her steam he receives 
suggestions for further improvements, or for precautions 
which will insure greater safety. These he executes, and 
thus he perhaps goes on for many days, or even weeks, try- 
ing and examining, for the purpose of improvement, every 
working of that mighty power, to which he knows hundreds 
of lives are soon to be intrusted. This now is probation — 
trial for the sake of improvement. And what are its re- 
sults ? Why, after this course has been thoroughly and 
faithfully pursued, this floating palace receives upon her 
broad deck, and in her carpeted and curtained cabins, her 
four or five hundred passengers, who pour in, in one long 
procession of happy groups, over the bridge of planks ; — father 
and son — mother and children — young husband and wife — 
all with implicit confidence trusting themselves and their 
dearest interest to her power. See her as she sails away — 
how beautiful and yet how powerful are all her motions ! 
That beam glides up and down gently and smoothly in its 
grooves, and yet gentle as it seems, hundreds of horses could 
not hold it still ; there is no apparent violence, but every 
movement is made with almost irresistible power. How 
graceful is her form, and yet how mighty is the momentum 
with which she presses on her way. Loaded with life, and 



310 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Safe and successful action. 




THE STEAMBOAT, 



herself the very symbol of life and power, she seems some- 
thing ethereal — unreal, which, ere we look again, will have 
vanished away. And though she has within her bosom a 
furnace glowing with furious fires, and a reservoir of death 
— the elements of most dreadful ruin and conflagration — of 
destruction the most complete, and agony the most unutter- 
able ; and though her strength is equal to the united energy 
of two thousand men, she restrains it all. She was con- 
structed by genius, and has been tried and improved by 
fidelity and skill ; and one man governs and controls her, 
stops her and sets her in motion, turns her this way and 
that, as easily and certainly as the child guides the gentle 
lamb. She walks over the hundred and sixty miles of her 
route without rest and without fatigue ; and the passengers, 
who have slept in safety in their berths, with destruction by 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 311 



line of trial. 



water without, and by fire within, always at hand — and 
nded only by a plank from -the one. and by a sheet of 
copper from the other, land at the appointed time in safety. 

My reader, you have, within you. susceptibilities and 
powers of which you have little present conception. — aier- 
gies which are hereafter to operate in producing eithei 
fullness of enjoyment, or horrors of suffering of which yon 
now but little conceive. You are now on trial. G-od 
wishes you to prepare yourself for safe and happy action 
He wishes you to look within, to examine the compli: sated 
movements of your heart, to detect what is wrong., to 
modify what needs change, and rectify even* irregular mo- 
tion. You go out to try your moral powers upon the stream 
of active life, and then return to retirement, to improve what 
is right and remedy what is wrong. Renewed opportunities 
of moral practice are given you. that you may go on fi : m 
strength to strength until every part of the complicated moral 
machinery of which the human heart consists, will work as it 
ought to work, and is prepared to accomplish the [nighty 
purposes for which your powers are designed. You sure 
trial — on 'probation now. You will enter upon active ser- 
vice in another world. 

In order, however, that the end and design of probation 
may be more perfectly understood., let us consider more par- 
ticularly the difference between the condition of the boat I 
have described, when she was an trial, and when she was 
afterward in actual service. While she was on trial she sailed 
this way and that, merely for the purpose of ascertaining her 
powers and her deficiencies, in order that the former might 
be increased, and the latter remedied. The engineer steered 
her to the rapids, we supposed ; but it was not because he 
particularly wished to pass the rapids, but only to try the 
power of the boat upon them. Perhaps with the same de- 
sign he might run along a curved or indented shore. — pen*> 



3i2 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. 



Trials of childhood. 



trating deep into creeks, or sweeping swiftly round projecting 
headlands ; and this, not because he wishes to examine that 
shore, but only to see how the boat will obey her helm. 
Thus he goes on placing her again and again in situations 
of difficulty, for the purpose simply of proving her powers, 
and enabling him to perfect the operation of her machinery. 
Afterward, when she has come into actual service, when she 
has received her load, and is transporting it to its place of 
destination, the object is entirely changed ; service, not im- 
provement, is then the aim. Her time of trial is ended. 

The Bible everywhere considers this world as one of trial 
and discipline, introductory to another one, which is to be 
the world of actual service. A child, as he comes forward 
into life, is surrounded with difficulties which might easily 
have been avoided if the Ruler over all had wished to avoid 
them. But he did not. That child is on trial — moral trial ; 
and just exactly as the helmsman of the steamboat steered 
her to the rapids for the purpose of bringing her into diffi- 
culty, so does God arrange in such a manner the circum- 
stances of childhood and youth as to bring the individual 
into various difficulties which will try his moral poweis, 
and which, if the child does his duty, will be the means of 
improving them. He may learn contentment and submis- 
sion by the thousand disappointments which occur, patience 
and fortitude by his various sufferings, and perseverance by 
encountering the various obstacles which oppose his progress. 
These difficulties, and sufferings, and obstacles might all 
have easily been avoided. God might have so formed the 
human mind, and so arranged the circumstances of life, that 
every thing should have gone smoothly with us. But he 
wishes for these things as trials — trials for the sake of our 
improvement ; and he has filled life with them, from the 
cradle to the grave. 

To obtain a distinct idea of the operation of this principle 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 313 

The child and the forbidden book. Command. Pain. 

let us look at this little child. She is just able to walk about 
the floor of her mother's parlor, and though her life is full of 
sources of happiness, it is full likewise of sources of disap- 
pointment and suffering. A moment since she was delighted 
with a plaything which her mother had given her, but now 
she has laid it aside, and is advancing toward a valuable 
book which lies upon the chair. She is just reaching out her 
little arm to take it, when she is arrested by her mother's 
well-known voice : 

" Mary ! Mary, you must not touch the book." 

A child as young as this will understand language though 
she can not use it, and she will obey commands. She looks 
steadily at her mother a moment with an inquiring gaze, 
as if uncertain whether she heard aright. The command is 
repeated : 

" No, Mary must not touch the book." 

The child, I will suppose, has been taught to obey, but in 
such a case as this it is a hard duty. Her little eyes fill 
with tears, which perhaps she makes an effort to drive away, 
and soon seeks amusement elsewhere. Now, if such a child 
has been managed right, she will be improved by such a 
trial. The principle of obedience and submission will have 
been strengthened ; it will be easier for her to yield to pa- 
rental command on the next occasion. 

But see, as she totters along back to her mother, she trips 
over her little footstool and falls to the floor. The terror and 
pain, though we should only smile at it, are sufficient to over- 
whelm her entirely. Her mother gently raises her, endeav- 
ors to soothe and quiet her, and soon you can distinctly per- 
ceive that the child is struggling to repress her emotions. 
Her sobs are gradually restrained, the tears flow less freely, 
and soon the sunshine of a smile breaks over her face, and 
she jumps down again to play. This now has been a usefuJ 

6 



314 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Advantage of trial in childhood. 



trial ; pain and fright have once been conquered, and they 
will have less power over her in future. 

But though there is a real and most important benefit to 
be derived from these trials of infancy, the child herself can 
not understand it. No child can become prepared for the 
future duties of life without them, and yet no child, of such 
an age, can understand why they are necessary. The 
mother might say to her, in attempting to explain it, as 
follows : 

" Mary, I might save you from all these difficulties and 
troubles if I chose. I might put you in a room where every 
thing was cushioned so that you could not hurt yourself, and 
I might keep carefully out of your sight every article which 
you ought not to have. Thus you might be saved from all 
your pains and disappointments. But I choose not to do this. 
I wish to prepare you to become useful and happy hereafter, 
and you must accordingly learn submission, and patience, 
and fortitude now. So I leave the book in the chair, where 
you can see it, and then tell you that you must not touch it. 
And I leave you to fall a little now and then ; for the pain 
only continues for a moment ; but if you try to conquer your 
fears and bear the pain patiently, it will do you lasting good. 
By these means your character will acquire firmness and 
vigor, and you will thus be prepared for the duties of future 
life." 

The child now would not understand all this, but it would 
be true, whether she should understand it or not, and the 
judicious mother, who knows what is the design of education 
and the manner in which children are to be trained up to 
future duty, will not be unwilling to have her children re- 
peatedly tried. These repeated trials are the very means of 
forming their characters, and were it possible to avoid them 
entirely, instead of meeting and conquering them, the child, 
exposed to such a course of treatment, would be ruined. 



TE.IAL AND DISCIPLINE. S 15 

Putting playthings out of reach. Conversation with a mother. 

Sometimes parents seem to make efforts to avoid them, and 
in going into such a family you will find the shovel and 
tongs, perhaps, placed upon the mantlepiece, so that the chil- 
dren can not touch them, and the mother will not dare to 
bring a plate of cake into the room for fear that they should 
cry for it. Instead of accustoming them to trials of this kind, 
and teaching them obedience and submission, she makes a 
vain effort to remove all occasion for the exercise of self- 
denial. If perchance, these remarks are read by any mother 
who feels that she is pursuing the course which they con- 
demn, I would stop a moment to say to her as follows : 

Do you expect that you can govern your children for fif- 
teen years to come in this way ? Can you put even' thing, 
which, during all this period, they shall want, and which 
they ought not to have, out of their way upon some mantle- 
piece, as you do the shovel and tongs ? 

" No,* 1 you reply, smiling, " I do not expect to do it. My 
child will soon become older, aud then I can teach him 
obedience more easily." 

You never afterward can teach him obedience so easily 
as when he is first able to understand, a, simple command, 
and that is long before he is able to walk. And there is no 
way by which obedience and submission can be so effectually 
taught to child or to man as by actual trial. That is the 
way in which God teaches it to you, and that is the way hi 
which you ought to teach it to your child. God never puts 
sin away out of our reach ; he leaves it all around us, and 
teaches us by actual trial to resist its calls. 

" I know this is right/' you reply : <; but sometimes I am 
busy — I am engaged in important duties, and do not wish to 
be interrupted ; and on such occasions I remove improper, 
playthings out of the reach of my child, because, just then, 
I have not time to teach him a lesson of obedience/' 

But what important business is that which you put into 



316 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Trials not to be shunned. 

competition with the whole character and happiness of youi 
child ? If your sons or your daughters grow up in habits of 
disobedience to your commands, they will embitter your life, 
and bring down your gray hairs with sorrow to the grave 
You never afterward can gain an ascendency over them so 
easily as in infancy — and you can not in any other way so 
effectually undermine your power, and prevent yourself from 
ever obtaining an ascendency over them, as by accustoming 
them in childhood to understand that, in your endeavors to 
keep them from doing what is wrong, you do not aim at 
strengthening their own moral principle, and accustoming 
them to meet and to resist the ordinary temptations of life, 
but that you depend upon a vain effort to remove them en- 
tirely away from trial ; so that if you could succeed, you ren- 
der it equally impossible for them to do right or wrong. 

Yes ; trial is essential in childhood, and God has so ar- 
ranged the circumstances of early life, that parents can not 
evade it. It must come. It may be removed in a very few 
cases, but that only occasions additional difficulty in those 
that remain ; and it is far better not to attempt to evade it 
at all. Come up then, parents, boldly to the work of accus- 
toming your children to trial. If you see a child going to- 
ward an open door, do not hasten to shut it so that he can 
not go out ; command him not to go, and enforce obedience ; 
if you do any thing to the door at all, throw it wide open, 
and say mildly, " I will see whether you will disobey." Do 
not put the book or the paper which you do not wish him to 
touch high upon a shelf, away from his reach ; if you change 
its place at all, place it fully within his reach, and direct him 
not to touch it. Remember that youth is a season of proba- 
tion and trial, and unless you avail yourself of the opportuni- 
ties of probation and trial which it presents, you lose half the 
advantages which the Creator had in view in arranging the 
circumstances of childhood as they are. 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE 3 17 

Instruction and practice. The merchant's plan for his son. 

Now the whole of life is, equally with the years oi child- 
hood, a time of probation and trial ; it is filled up with diffi* 
culties and obstacles, and sources of slight disappointment 
and suffering, for the very purpose of trying and increasing 
our moral strength. And all these things are, or may be, 
sources of enjoyment. They will be sources of enjoyment if 
we take the right view of them, as I shall explain more fully 
hereafter. God has so arranged it, that we have, in passing 
through life, a specimen of almost every sort of moral diffi- 
culty : and every moral power of the heart may be brought 
into active exercise, and cherished and strengthened by the 
trial, if the opportunity is rightly improved . 

God has therefore made a double provision for the moral 
growth of men. First, he has given us instruction in our 
duty in the Bible ; and secondly, he has given us opportunity 
for practice, in the various difficulties and duties of life. The 
Bible is full and complete as a book of directions. Human 
life is full and complete as a field for practice. The best 
parade-ground for drilling and disciplining an army would not 
be a smooth and level plain, but an irregular region, diversi- 
fied with lulls and plains, where the inexperienced army 
would be compelled to perform every evolution — now passing 
a defile, now ascending an acclivity, now constructing and 
crossing a bridge. So human life, to answer the purposes 
intended as a field for moral exercise, must present a variety 
of difficulties, to enable us to practice every virtue, and to 
bring into active requisition every right principle of heart. 

A wealthy man, I will suppose, being engaged in com- 
mercial pursuits in a great city, wished to prepare his son to 
♦ manage his business when he should be old enough to take 
charge of it. He accordingly gave him a thorough com- 
mercial education in school ; but before he received him into 
his partnership, he thought it would be necessary to give him 
some practical knowledge of his future duties. 



318 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A voyago of difficulty. Its design. 

"My son," says he to himself, "is now theoretically ac- 
quainted with all that is necessary, but he wants the readi- 
ness, and the firmness, and the confidence of practice. To 
complete his education, I will give him a thorough trial. I 
will fit out a small vessel, and let him take charge of her 
cargo. I will so plan the voyage, that it shall embrace an 
unusual share of difficulty and trial ; for my very design is to 
give him practical knowledge and skill, which come only 
through such a trial." 

He accordingly fits out his ship. He thinks very little of 
the success of the voyage in a pecuniary point of view, be- 
cause that is not his object. He rejects one port of destina- 
tion, because it is too near ; another, because the passage to 
it is short and direct ; and another, because the disposal of a 
cargo there is attended with no difficulty. He at last thinks 
of a voyage w r hich will answer his design. The passage lies 
through a stormy sea. Rocks and quicksands, and perhaps 
pirates, fill it with dangers. The port at which he will 
arrive is one distinguished by the intricacy of its government 
regulations. His son is a stranger to the language of the 
country, and a great discretionary power will be necessary in 
the selection of a return cargo. This, says the merchant, is 
exactly the plan. This voyage will comprehend more diffi 
culties, and dangers, and trials than any other, and will, ac- 
cordingly, be exactly the thing for my son. 

Perhaps you may say that a father would not form such 
a design as this — he would not willingly expose his son to so 
many difficulties and dangers merely for the sake of putting 
him to trial. This is true. No real father would probably 
go as far as I have represented the imaginary merchant to 
go ; but the reason why he would not, would be the doubt 
which he would necessarily feel whether his son would safely 
pass through the trial. He would not, for example, send his 
eon among rocks and whirlpools, for the sake of getting him 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 319 

Its design and effects. 

into danger, because he would fear that that danger might 
result in death. If, however, he could be sure of ultimate 
Eafety — if, for example, he could, as our great Father in 
heaven can do, go along with his boy, and though unseen and 
unheard, keep constantly at his side in every danger, with 
power to bring effectual protection— if earthly fathers had 
such power as this, there would be a thousand who would 
take the course above described. They would see that there 
could be nothing so well calculated to give maturity and 
efficiency to the character, and to prepare the young man for 
persevering fidelity and eminent success in his future busi- 
ness, as such a discipline as this. 

Let us go on then with the supposition. The young man 
at length sets sail. He understands the object of his father 
in planning the voyage, and he goes forth to prosecute it with 
a cordial desire of making it the means of promoting his 
improvement as far as possible. Instead of being displeased 
that a plan embracing so many difficulties and trial had been 
chosen for him, he rejoices in it. He certainly would rejoice 
in it, if he had confidence in his father's protection. When 
he comes into the stormy ocean through which he has to pass, 
instead of murmuring at the agitated sea and gloomy sky, he 
stands upon the deck, riding from billow to billow, thinking 
of his father's presence and confiding in his protection, and 
growing in moral strength and fortitude every hour. The 
gale increases, and the fury of the storm tries his nerve to the 
utmost ; but he does not regret its violence, or wish to quiet 
a single surge. He knows that it is his trial, and rejoices in 
it, and when through his increasing moral strength he has 
triumphed over its power, he stands contemplating its fury, 
with a spirit quiet and undisturbed. At length the wind 
lulls ; the clouds break away, and the bright rays of the set- 
ting sun beam upon the dripping sails and rigging ; the waves 
subside ; a steady breeze carries the ship forward smoothly 



320 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



rhe uses of trial. . Self -knowledge. 

on her course ; and he who has been enduring the discipline 
of the scene feels that he has made progress — that he haa 
taken now one great step toward the accomplishment of the 
object of his voyage. 

Christian ! God has planned just such a voyage for you. 
He has filled it with difficulties and trials, that you may 
by means of them, discipline and perfect all your moral 
powers. When, therefore, the dark, gloomy storm rises 
upon you, and night shuts in, and danger presses, and your 
heart feels itself burdened with a load which it can scarcely 
sustain, never repine at it. Think how near is your protector. 
Confide in him, and remember that your present voyage is 
one of trial. 

II. THE USES OF TRIAL. 

I think it must be thus very evident to all who reflect 
properly upon this subject, that it is of immense advantage 
to moral beings, who are to be trained up to virtue, and 
to firmness of principle and of character, that they should not 
only receive instruction in duty, but that they should be put 
upon trial, to acquire by actual experience a firm and steady 
habit of correct moral action. This can, however, be made 
more clear, if I analyze more particularly the effects of such 
trial upon the heart. 

1. It enables us to knoiv ourselves. People never know 
their own characters till they are tried. We often condemn 
very severely other persons for doing what, if we had been 
placed in their circumstances, we should have done ourselves. 
" Ye know not what spirit ye are of," said the Savior. Very 
few persons know what spirit they are of, until an hour of 
temptation brings forth the latent propensities of the heart 
into action. How will a revengeful spirit slumber unseen in 
a man's bosom, and his face be covered with smiles, till some 
slight insult or indignity calls it forth, and makes him at once 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 321 

The deceived mother. 

the victim of ungovernable passion ! Yes ; trial reveals to us 
our true character. 

It brings to light the traits of Christian character which 
would not be understood at all without it. I have a case in 
mind, which I will describe, which is a very common case, 
precisely as I describe it here ; so common, that very prob- 
ably a great many of my readers may consider it as their 
own. 

A Christian mother had an only child whom she ardently 
loved. The mother was an influential member of the church, 
and was ardently interested in maintaining a high Christian 
character, and studying, faithfully and perse veringly, religious 
truth. She became much interested in the view which the 
Bible presents of the Divine Sovereignty ; she used to dwell 
with delight upon the contemplation of God's universal 
power over all ; she used to rejoice, as she thought, in his en- 
tire authority over her ; she took pleasure in reflecting that 
she was completely in his hands, soul and body, for time and 
for eternity, and she wondered that any person could find 
any source of difficulty or embarrassment in the Scripture 
representations on this subject. 

But she did not know her heart. Her beloved child was 
sick — and she stood anxious and agitated over her pillow, 
very far from showing a cordial willingness that God should 
rule. She was afraid, very much afraid, that her child 
would die. Instead of having that practical belief in the 
divine sovereignty, and that cordial confidence in God, which 
would have given her in this trying hour a calm and happy 
acquiescence in the divine will, she was restless and uneasy 
— her soul had no peace, morning or night. Her daughter 
sank, by a progress which was slow, but irresistible, to the 
grave, and for weeks that mother was in utter misery be- 
cause she could not find it in her heart to submit to the. 
divine will. She had believed in the. universal power of 



322 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The engineer was watchful. Means of improvement. 

G od as a theoretical truth ; she had seen its abstract beauty ; 
she thought that she rejoiced in God's superintending power, 
but it was only while all went well with her ; as soon as 
God began to exercise that power which she had so cordially 
acknowledged and rejoiced in, in a way which was painful 
to her, her heart rose against it in a moment, and would not 
submit. The trial brought out to her view her true feelings 
in regard to the absolute and unbounded authority of God. 
Now, there is a great deal of such acquiescence in God's 
dominion as this in the world, and a great deal of it is ex- 
posed by trial every day. 

The case of the steam-engine, which I supposed at the 
commencement of this chapter, illustrates this part of my 
subject exactly. The engineer tried the boat for the purpose 
of learning fully the character and operation of her ma- 
chinery. Though he had actually himself superintended the 
construction of every part of the work, he could not fully 
understand the character and the power of the machine until 
he had tried it. While the experiment was making, he was 
watching every movement with a most scrutinizing eye ; he 
discovered faults, or deficiencies, or imperfections, which 
nothing but actual trial could have revealed. 

It is on exactly the same principle that discipline and trial 
are useful, to enable us fully to understand our characters ; 
and in order to avail ourselves of this advantage, we should 
watch ourselves most carefully, when placed in any new or 
untried situation, to see how our moral powers are affected 
by it. We must notice every imperfection and every defi- 
ciency which the trial brings to our view. 

2. Discipline and trial are the means of improvement. 
Besides giving us an insight into our characters, they will, 
if properly improved, enable us to advance in the attainment 
of every excellence. I ought however, perhaps, to say they 
may be made the means of improvement, rather than that 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 



323 



The Christian boy going to school. 



they actually will be so. The steamboat was in a better 
condition after the first day's trial than before ; but it was 
because the engineer was attentive and watchful, doing his 
utmost to avail himself of every opportunity to increase the 
smoothness and the power of her motion. So with human 
trials. 

See yonder child going to school. His slate is under his 
arm, and he is going this day to make an attempt to under- 
stand long division. He is young, and the lesson, though it 
may seem simple to us, is difficult to him. He knows what 
difficulty and perplexity are before him, and he would, per- 
haps, under ordinary circumstances, shrink from the hard task. 
But he is a Christian. He has asked forgiveness for his past 
sins in the name of Jesus Christ, and is endeavoring to live 
in such a manner as to please his Father above. He knows 
that God might easily have formed his mind so that mathe- 
matical truths and processes might be plain to him at once, 
and that he has not done so, for the very purpose of giving 
him a useful discipline 
by the trial which the 
effort to learn them 
necessarily brings. 

He says therefore to 
himself as he walks 
along to his school- 
room, "My lesson to- 
day is not only to un- 
derstand this process, 
but to learn to be pa- 
tient and faithful in 
duty, and I must learn 
the arithmetical and 
the moral lesson to- 
gether. I will try to the school-boy. 




324 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The moral and arithmetical question. 



do it. I will begin my work, looking to God for help, and 
I will go on through it, if I can, with a calm and quiet 
spirit, so as to learn not only to divide a number, but to 
persevere in duty." With this spirit he sits down to his 
work, and watches himself narrowly, that he may check 
every rising of impatience, and obtain, by means of the 
very difficulties that now try him, a greater self-command 
than he ever before possessed. In fact he takes a strong 
interest in the very difficulty, becase he is interested in the 
moral experiment which it enables him to make. 

Now, when such a spirit as this is cherished, and the mind 
is under its influence in all the difficulties and trials of life, 
how rapidly must the heart advance in every excellence ! 
There certainly can be no other way by which a young 
person can so effectually acquire a patiert and persevering 
spirit, as by meeting real difficulties with such a state of 
mind as I have described. They who have been trained in 
the hard school of difficulty and trial, almost always possess 
a firmness of character which it is in vain to look for else- 
where. There must, however, be effort on the part of the 
individual to improve the trial, or he will grow worse instead 
of better by it. The learning of simple division in school 
is, perhaps, as often a means of promoting an impatient and 
fretful spirit as the contrary. It is the disposition on the 
part of the individual, that determines which effect is to be 
the result. Some men, by the misfortunes and crosses of 
life, are made misanthropes ; others, by the same disappoint- 
ments and sufferings, are made humble and happy Christians, 
with feelings kindly disposed toward their fellow-men, and 
calmly submissive toward God. 

The object, then, which the Creator has had in view, in 
arranging the circumstances of probation and discipline in 
which we are placed, is two-fold : that we may understand. 
and that we may improve our characters. We are to learr 



TRIAL AND DISCIILINE. 



Practical directions. 



different lessons from the different circumstances and situa- 
tions in which we are placed, but we are to learn some les- 
son from all. God might easily have so formed the earth, 
and so arranged our connection with it, as to save us from 
all the vicissitudes, and trials, and changes which we now 
experience. But he has made this world a state of discipline 
and trial for us, that we may have constant opportunities to 
call into active exercise every Christian grace. The future 
world is the home for which we are intended, and we are 
placed on trial here, that we may prepare for it ; and the 
suffering and sorrow which we experience on the way are 
small evils compared with the glorious results which we may 
hope for there. But I must come to the practical directions 
which I intended to present. 

1. Consider every thing that befalls you as coming in the 
providence of God, and intended as a part of the system of 
discipline and trial through which you are to pass. This 
will help you to bear every thing patiently. An irreligious 
man is on a journey requiring special haste, and finds him- 
self delayed by bad traveling or stormy weather, until a 
steamboat, which he had intended to have taken, has sailed, 
and left him behind. He spends the twenty-four hours dur 
ing which he has to wait for the next boat, in fretting and 
worrying himself over his disappointment — in useless com- 
plaints against the driver for not having brought him on 
more rapidly — in wishing that the weather or traveling had 
been better — or in thinking how much his business must 
suffer by the delay. The Christian, on the other hand, hears 
the intelligence, that the boat has left him, with a quiet 
spirit ; and even if he was hastening to the bedside of a 
dying child, he would spend the intervening day in compo- 
sure and peace, saying, "The Lord has ordered this. It is 
intended to try me. Heavenly Father, give me grace to 
stand the trial." 



326 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

God's providence universal. Losses of every kind from God. 

I say, the Christian would feel thus ; I should, perhaps, 
have said, he ought to feel thus. Christians are very much 
accustomed to consider all the great trials and sufferings of 
life as coming from God, and as intended to try them, but 
they fret and vex themselves unceasingly in regard to the little 
difficulties which, in the ordinary walk of life, they have to 
encounter — especially in what is connected with the miscon- 
duct of others. You lend a valuable book, and it is returned 
to you spoiled ; the prints are soiled and worn ; the leaves 
are turned down in some places, and loosened in others ; the 
binding is defaced, and the back is broken. Now you ought 
not to stand looking at your spoiled volume, lamenting again 
and again the misfortune, and making yourselves miserable 
for hours by your fretfulness and displeasure against the 
individual who was its cause. He was indeed in fault, but 
if you did your duty in lending the book, as probably you did, 
you are in no sense responsible for the injury, and you do wrong 
to make yourself miserable about it. The occurrence comes 
to you in the providence of God, and is intended as a trial. 
He watches you to see how you bear it. If you meet it with 
a proper spirit, and learn the lesson of patience and forbear- 
ance which it brings, that spoiled book will do you more good 
than any splendid volume crowded with prints, adorned with 
gilded binding, and preserved in a locked cabinet for you for 
twenty years. 

So with loss of every kind, whether it comes in the form 
of a broken piece of china, or a counterfeit ten-dollar bill 
found in the pocket-book, or the loss of your whole property 
by the misfortune of a partner or the pressure of the times. 
No matter what is the magnitude or the smallness of the loss 
— no matter whether it comes from the culpable negligence 
or fraud of another, or more directly from God, through the 
medium of flood or fire, or the lightning of heaven ; so far 
as it is a loss affecting you, it comes in the providence of 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 327 

The careless engineer. 

God, and is intended as a trial. If you are really interested 
in what ought to be the great business of life, your growth in 
grace, you will find that such trials will help you to under- 
stand your own heart, and to train it up to a proper action 
under the government of God, more than any thing beside. 

2. Make it your aim to be continually learning the lessons 
which God by these various trials is endeavoring to teach you. 
Every day is a day of discipline and trial. Ask yourself 
every night then, "What progress have I made to-day?" 
Suppose that the engineer, in the case of the steamboat on 
trial, to which I have several times alluded, had neglected 
altogether the operation of the machinery when his boat was 
put to the test. Suppose that instead of examining minutely 
and carefully the structure and the action of the parts, with 
a view of removing difficulties, rectifying defects, and sup- 
plying deficiencies, he had been seated quietly upon the deck 
enjoying the sail. He might have been gazing at the scenery 
of the shore, or in vanity and self-complacency pleasing him- 
self with the admiration which he imagined those who stoo<? 
upon the land were feeling for the degree of success which 
he had already attained. While he is thus neglecting hi? 
duty, evils without number, and fraught with incalculable 
consequences, are working below.. The defects in his ma- 
chinery are not discovered and not remedied ; its weaknesses 
remain unobserved and unrepaired ; and if at last there 
should be intrusted to his care valuable property, nothing 
can reasonably be expected but its destruction. 

Multitudes of men, and even great numbers of those who 
call themselves Christians, act the part of this infatuated 
engineer. God says to them that their moral powers are 
now on trial. He commands them to consider it their busi- 
ness here not to be engrossed in the objects of interest which 
surround them as they pass on through life, nor to be satis- 
fied with present attainments of any kind, but to consider 



328 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Neglect of duty. 



themselves as sailing now in troubled waters for the purpose 
of trial and improvement ; to watch themselves with con- 
stant self-examination, and with honest efforts to rectify what 
is wrong and to supply what is deficient. He requires them 
to consider all the circumstances and occurrences of life as 
coming from him, and as arranged with express reference to 
the attainment of these objects. Notwithstanding all this, 
however, they neglect the duty altogether. They do not 
watch themselves. They do not habitually and practically 
regard the events of life as means to enable them to under- 
stand their hearts, to strengthen, by constant exercise, moral 
principle, and to grow in grace. Instead of this, they are 
engaged in simply endeavoring to secure as much present 
enjoyment in this world as they can, and can see no good in 
any trial, and can get no good from it. When they are sick, 
they spend the time in longing to get well. "When they are 
disappointed, they make themselves miserable by useless 
lamentations. Losses bring endless regrets ; and injuries, 
impatience and anger. Half of life is spent in these vexa- 
tious struggles — the vain and hopeless struggles of a weak 
man to get free from the authority and government of 
God. 

I have now completed what I intended to present on the 
subject of probation ; and I think that all my readers will 
easily see, that by taking such a view of life as this subject 
presents to us, the whole aspect of our residence in this 
world is at once changed. If you really feel what I have 
been endeavoring to explain, you will regard yourselves as 
strangers and pilgrims here, looking continually forward to 
another country as your home. The thousand trials and 
troubles of life will lose half their weight by your regarding 
them in their true light, that is, as means of moral discipline 
and improvement. You must, however, make a constant 
effort to do this. Make it a part of your daily self-examina 



TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 329 

Concluding remarks. 

tion not only to ascertain what is the state of your heart at 
the time when the examination was made, but to review the 
incidents of the day, and see how they have operated upon 
you as means of moral discipline. See what traits of charac- 
ter those incidents have brought to your view, and what effect 
they have had in making you worse or better than you were 
in the morning. The little events and circumstances of every 
day must have a very important influence of one kind or of 
the other. If you neglect this influence, all will go wrong. 
If you attend to it, it will go well and happily with you 
wherever you may be. 



330 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

General improvement a Christian duty. 



CHAPTER XL 

PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 
I 

"The path of the ju3t is as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the 

perfect day." 

The chapters which the reader has just perused are on 
subjects connected with the improvement of the character : 
that is, they are upon the means by which this improvement 
is to be promoted. This studying of the Bible, the keeping of 
the Sabbath, and the influence of trial and discipline, are all 
intended to be means for the promotion of moral progress. 
There are some things, however, which I wish to say in 
regard to the character itself as it goes on in the process of 
improvement. Reader ! do you desire to avail yourself of the 
opportunities and means which I have described ? Do you 
wish to study the Bible, to remember the Sabbath, and to 
improve all the occurrences of life, as the means of promoting 
your progress in all that is good ? If so, look now with me 
a little while into your character itself, that you may see in 
what respect it needs your attention, and in what way you 
can so employ the means which I have described, as to gain 
the fullest benefit from them. As I think that every young 
Christian ought most assiduously to cultivate his moral, and 
also his intellectual powers, I shall discuss in order both these 
points. 

I. MORAL IMPROVEMENT. 

Every young Christian will find, however sincerely and 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 



Moral improvement. Faults. The yain boy. 

ardently he may have given up his heart to God and com- 
menced a life of piety, that a vast number of faults remain 
to be corrected — faults which he acquired while he lived in 
sin, and which the force of habit have fixed upon him. 
Now you know, or you may easily learn, what these faults 
are, and your first effort is to correct them. 

In order now to make clear the course which I think 
ought to be taken to correct such faults, I will suppose a 
case, and bring into it the various methods which may be 
adopted for this purpose ; and I shall write the account with 
a double aspect — one toward parents, with the design of 
showing them what sort of efforts they ought to make to cor- 
rect the faults of their children, and the other toward the 
young, to show what measures they should adopt to improve 
themselves. 

First, however, I will mention a very common, but a very 
ineffectual mode of attempting to correct faults. A father 
sees in his son some exhibition of childish vanity, and he says 
to him instantly, at the very time of the occurrence, " You 
are acting in a very foolish manner. — You show a great deal 
of vanity and self-conceit by such conduct ; and in fact I have 
observed that you are growing very vain for some months 
past ; I don't know what we shall do to correct it." 

The poor boy hangs his head and looks ashamed, and his 
father, talking about it a few minutes longer in a half irri- 
tated tone, dismisses and forgets the subject. The boy re- 
frains, perhaps, from that particular exhibition of vanity for 
a little while, and that is probably all the good which results 
from the reproof. 

Another wiser parent sees with regret the rising spirit of 
self-conceit in his son ; and instead of rushing on to attack it 
without plan or design at the first momentary impulse, he 
resorts to a very different course. He notices several cases 
— remembers them — reflects that the evil, which has been 



332 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Way to reform him. 



Conversation with his father. 



forming perhaps for years, can not be corrected by a single 
abrupt reproof — and accordingly forms a plan for a protracted 
moral discipline in the case, and then seeks a favorable op- 
portunity to execute it. 

One day, after the 
father has been grant- 
ing his son some un- 
usual indulgence, and 
they have spent the 
day happily together 
in some plan of enjoy- 
ment, and are riding 
home slowly in a pleas- 
ant summer evening, 
he thus addresses his 
son : 

" Well, Samuel, you 
have been a good boy, 
and we have had a 
pleasant time. Now I 
am going to give you 
something to do, which, if you do it right, will wind up the 
day very pleasantly." 

" What is it ?" says Samuel. 

" I am not certain that it will please you, but you may 
do as you choose about undertaking it. It will not be pleas- 
ant at first ; the enjoyment will come afterward." 

Samuel. But what is it, father ? I think I shall like to 
do it. 

Father. Do you think that you have any faults, Samuel ? 

Samuel. Yes, sir, I know I have a great many. 

Father. Yes, you have ; and all boys have. Some wish 

to correct them, and others do not. Now I have supposed 

that you do wish to correct your faults, and I had thought 




RIDING HOME. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 333 



Instances of yanitv. 



of describing one of them to you, and then telling you of a 
particular thing which you can do which will help you to 
correct it. But then it will not he very pleasant for you to 
sit here and have me find fault with you, and mention a 
number of instances in which you have done wrong, and par- 
ticularize all the little circumstances which increased the 
guilt ; this, I say, will not be very pleasant, even though you 
know that my design is not to find fault with you, but to 
help you improve. But then if you undertake it, and after a 
little while find that you are really improving, then you will 
feel happier for the effort. Now consider both, and tell me 
whether you wish me to give you a fault to correct or not. 

If the boy now has been under a kind, and gentle, but 
efficient government, he will almost certainly desire to have 
the fault, and the way by which he is to correct it, pointed 
out. If so, the father may proceed as follows : 

Fatlier. The fault that I am going to mention to you, is 
vanity, Now it is right for you to desire my approbation. 
It is right for you not only to do your duty, but to wish that 
others should know that you do it. I think, too, it is right 
for you to take pleasure in reflecting on your improvement, 
as you go on improving from year to year. But when you 
fancy your improvement to be greater than it is, or imagine 
that you have made great attainments, or when you obtrude 
some trifling merit upon the notice of strangers for the sake 
of exciting their admiration, you exhibit vanitij. Now, did 
you know that you have this fault ? 

Samuel, I do not know that I have thought of it particu- 
larly. I suppose, though, that I "have it. 

Father. That you have the fault now is of very little con- 
sequence, if you only take hold of it in earnest and correct it. 
It has grown up with you insensibly ; in fact, almost all 
children fall into it. I presume that I had as much vanity 
as you have, when I was as young. Do you think now that 



C?34 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The boy's list. 



you can recollect any cases in which you have shown 
vanity ? 

Samuel. I don't know ; perhaps I could if I should have 
a little time to think. 

Father. Well, I will give you time to think, and if you 
really wish to correct yourself of the fault, you may think of 
all the cases you can, and tell me of them. If you prefer it, 
you may write the list and show it to me. 

Now, if the subject is taken up in this spirit, most boys, 
who had been treated on these principles before, would re- 
ceive the communication with pleasure, and would engage 
with interest in the work of exploring the heart. And such 
a boy will succeed. He will bring a list of instances, not 
perhaps fully detailed, but alluded to distinctly enough to re- 
call them to mind. His list might be perhaps something as 
follows : 

" Dear Father, — I have made out a list of the times in 
which I was vain, and I now send it to you. 

" 1. I brought out my writing-book a few evenings ago, 
when some company was here, in hopes that the people 
would ask to see it. 

"2. I said yesterday at table, that there was something in 
the lesson which none of the boys could recite until it came 
to me, and I recited it. 

"3. I pretended to talk Latin with George when walk- 
ing, thinking that you and the other gentlemen would over 
hear it. 

" I suppose I could think of many other cases if I had 
time. I am glad that you told me of the fault, for I think it 
a very foolish one, and I wish to correct it. 

" Your dutiful son, Samuel.''" 

Now let me ask every one of my readers who has any 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 336 

Effect of this confession. Secret confession to bo minute. 

knowledge of human nature, whether, even if the effort of 
the father to correct this fault should stop here, a most pow- 
erful blow would not have been given to it. Do you think 
that a boy can make such a self-examination, and confess 
freely his faults in this manner, without making a real pro- 
gress in forsaking them ? Can he as easily, after this, at- 
tempt to display his accomplishments, or talk of his ex- 
ploits ? 

The process ought not to stop here, but this is the first 
step ; confession — full, free, and particular confession. In 
the first chapter I described the power of confession to restore 
'peace of mind, after it is lost by sin ; and in alluding to the 
subject of confession again here, it will be seen that I look 
to another aspect of it, namely, its tendency to promote ref- 
ormation. It is in this latter respect only thai I consider 
it now. 

The first step then which any of you are to take in order 
to break the chains of any sinful habit which you have 
formed, is to confess it fidly and freely. That single act 
will do more to give your fault its death-blow, than almost 
any thing else that you can do. If you are a child, you can 
derive great assistance from confessing your faults to your 
parents. If you shrink from talking with them face to face 
about your follies and faults, you can write to them. Or 
confess and express your determination to amend, to some 
confidential friend, of your own age ; but above all, be sure 
to confess to God ; lay the whole case before him in full de- 
tail. I can not press upon you too fully the necessity of being 
distinct and definite, and going into full detail, in these 
confessions. 

There is one very erroneous impression which young per- 
sons receive from hearing public prayer. It is always, as it 
ought to be, general in its language, both of confession and 
request. Take for instance the following language of the 



336 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Secret prayer often too general. Way to make prayer interesting. 

prayer-book of the Protestant Episcopal Church, so admira- 
bly adapted to its purpose : 

" We have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. 
We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own 
hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have 
left undone those things which we ought to have done ; and 
we have done those things which we ought not to have done ; 
and there is no health in us." 

How general is this language. It is so with our Savior's 
model of prayer ! " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive those 
who are indebted to us." Public prayer ought to be some- 
what general in its expressions, for it is the united voice often 
of thousands, and should express acknowledgments and peti- 
tions which are common to them all. 

But the mistake that multitudes fall into, is, that when 
they begin to pray themselves, they take public prayer as the 
model for secret supplication ; and they spend their season of 
retirement in repeating the same general supplications which 
they hear from the pulpit in the hour of public worship. 
But this is a very great error. The very object of secret 
prayer is to afford the soul an opportunity of going minutely 
into its own particular and private case. There is no magic 
in solitude, no mysterious influence in the closet itself, to 
purify and sanctify the heart. It is the opportunity which 
the closet affords of hringing fonvard the individual case 
in all its particularity and detail, which gives to secret 
devotion its immense moral power. The general and com- 
prehensive language which is adopted in public prayer, is 
thus adopted, because it is the object of public prayer to ex- 
press only those w r ants, and to confess those sins which are 
common to all who join in it. The language must necessa- 
rily therefore be general. But it is always the intention of 
those who use it, that minute detail should be given in 
private supplications. la the prayer of the Episcopal Church, 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 337 

Formal confession. 

for example, the evening prayer for families is printed 

thus : 

" We come before thee in an humble 

sense of our un worthiness, acknowledging * "Here let him 

.„ . .. . P . . , icho reads make a 

our manifold transgressions of thy right- shoH paus ^ that 

eous laws.^ But 0, gracious Father, who every one may con- 

desirest not the death of a sinner, look upon fess the sins and 

us, we beseech thee, in mercy, and forgive f a ^ in ff s °f that 

11 n day." 

us all our transgressions. 

Here you will observe that on the margin it is suggested 
that this entering into detail should be done even in the fam- 
ily worship. How much more when the individual has re- 
tired alone, for the very purpose of bringing forward the 
peculiar circumstances of his own case ! 

This is the only way to make secret prayer what it really 
ought to be, for without this the exercise is almost certain to 
degenerate to a lifeless form. A child, just before retiring to 
rest, attempts to pray. He uses substantially the expressions 
which he has heard in the pulpit : " I acknowledge that I am 
a great sinner. I have done this day many things which are 
wrong ; I have neglected many duties, and broken many of thy 
commands." Now how easy is it for a person to say all this 
with apparent fervor, and yet have present to his mind while 
saying it, no one act in which he really feels that he has 
done wrong, and consequently no distinct mental feeling that 
he is guilty ! Our confessions, half of the time, amount to 
nothing more than a general acknowledgement of the doc- 
trine of human depravity. " I humbly confess that I have 
been a great sinner this day," says a Christian at his evening 
prayer, and while he says it, the real state of his mind is, 
" I suppose I must have been so. All men are sinners, and 
I know that of course I am." As to any distinct and defi- 

V 



338 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Excuses. Way to make secret prayer interesting, 

nite feeling of personal guilt, it is often the farthest from the 
mind while rising such language. 

It is astonishing how easily and how soon we become .ha- 
bituated to the general language of confession, so as to use 
it most frequently without any sense of personal guilt. A 
parent will reprove a boy for a fault, and as the father goes 
over the details, the boy will defend and excuse himself at 
every step. Here he will lay off the blame upon his brother 
— there he will say that he did not know what else to do — 
and in another respect he will say that he tried to do as well 
as he could. And yet, after he has finished all this, he will 
add gravely, " But I do not pretend to excuse myself. I know 
I have done wrong." I have had such cases occur continu- 
ally in the management of the young. 

But do not forget what is the subject of this chapter. It 
is the means of correcting faults ; and, as the first means, 
I am describing full and particular confession of the sins 
which you wish to avoid in future. Before I go on, however, 
I wish to say one thing in regard to the effect of going into 
minute detail in prayer. It is the only way in which the 
duty of prayer can be made to awaken any strong degree of 
interest in the mind. When you come at night, with a 
mind wearied and exhausted with the labors of the day, to 
your hour of retirement, you will find your thoughts wander- 
ing in prayer. No complaint is more common than this. 
There is scarcely any question which is asked more frequently 
of a pastor than this : " How shall I avoid the sin of wan- 
dering thoughts in prayer?" It would be asked, too, much 
oftener than it is, were it not that Christians shrink from ac- 
knowledging to their religious teachers a fault which seems 
to imply their want of interest in spiritual things. Now the 
remedy in nine cases out of ten is, coming to particulars in 
your prayers. Have no long formal exordiums. Abandon 
the common phrases of general confession and request, and 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 33S 

Private prayer. Examples of minute confession. 

come at once to the particular circumstances and minute 
wants and trials of the day. Describe not only particular 
faults, but all the minute attending circumstances. Feel 
that you are alone ; that the restraints of publicity are re- 
moved from you ; that you may safely abandon the phrase- 
ology and the form which a proper respect for the customs 
of men retains in the pulpit and at the family altar, and come 
and converse with your great Protector, as a man converses 
with his friend ; and remember that if you fasten upon one 
w r ord which you have spoken with an improper spirit, and 
confess your guilt in that one sin, mentioning all the circum- 
stances which gave it its true character, and exposing the 
wicked emotions which dictated it, you make more truly a 
cojifession, than you would do by repeating solemnly the 
best expression of the doctrine of human depravity that creed, 
or catechism, or system of theology ever gave. 

But to return to the modes of correcting faults. If your 
fault is one which long habit has riveted very closely upon 
you, I would recommend that you confess it in writing ; it is 
more distinct, and what you put upon paper you impress very 
strongly upon your mind. Suppose when evening comes, in 
reflecting upon the events of the day, you remember an act 
of unkind ness to a younger brother. Now, sit down and 
write a full description of it, and make it appear in its true 
light. Do not exaggerate it, nor extenuate it, but paint it 
in its true colors. Express your sorrow, if you feel any, and 
express just as much as you feel. Be honest. Use no cant 
phrase of acknowledgment, but just put upon paper your ac- 
tual feelings in regard to the transaction. Now, after you 
have done this, you may, if you please, just fold up the paper 
and put it into the fire ; you can not put with it into the fire 
the vivid impression of your guilt, which this mode of con- 
fession will produce. Or you may, if you prefer it, preserve 
it for a time, that you may read it again, and renew the i^> 



340 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



The father's letter. 



pressions which it made, before you destroy it. But it will 
be better to destroy it at last. It is not in human nature to 
write its thoughts in such a case, with the intention of pre- 
serving the record, without being secretly influenced by the 
probability that the description will sooner or later be seen 
by other eyes. 

But I must pass to the second step in the progress of re- 
moving a fault. It is watchfulness. Suppose that the father, 
in the case which I have imagined, in order to illustrate this 
subject, should say to his son, or which would be better still, 
should write to him as follows : 

" My dear Son, — I received your account of the instances 
in which you have shown vanity. I am very glad that you 
are disposed to correct yourself of this fault, and will now tell 
you what you are to do next. 

'• You would without doubt, if you had had time, have 
thought of many more instances, but you would not have 
thought of all ; a great many would have escaped your 
notice. You show vanity many times when you do not know 
it yourself. When we are habituated to doing any thing 
that is wrong, we become blinded by the habit ;- so that the 
vainest people in the world scarcely know that they are vain 
at all. Now, the next step that you are to take is to regain 
moral sensibility on this subject, so as to know clearly what 
vanity is, and always to notice when you are guilty of it. 
The way to do this, is, for you to watch yourself. Notice 
your conduct for two days, and whenever you detect yourself 
displaying vanity on any occasion, go and make a memo- 
randum of it. You need not write a full description of it, 
for you would frequently not have time ; but write enough 
to remind you of it, and then at the end of the two days send 
the list to me. In the mean time I will observe you, and if I 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 341 

Objoct of this illustration. Faults to be corrected. 

gee any instances of this fault I will remember them, and see 
if I recollect any which you have not marked down. 

" It will not be very pleasant, my son, to watch yourself 
thus for faults, but it is the most effectual means of removing 
them. You may, however, do just as you please about 
adopting this plan. If you adopt it, send your catalogue to 
me ; if you do not, you need not say any thing about it. 

" Your affectionate parent, — .*' 

Now I wish my young readers to understand, that though 
] have described fully this case, partly with a design to illus- 
trate the spirit with which parents and teachers should 
engage in their efforts for the moral improvement of the 
young, yet my main design is to explain to the young them- 
selves a course which they may take immediately to correct 
their faults. I am in hopes that many a one who reads this 
chapter will say to himself, "I have some faults which I 
should like to correct, and I will try this experiment." I wish 
that you would try the experiment. You all know what 
your faults are. One can remember that he is very often 
undutiful or disrespectful to his parents. Another is aware 
that she is not always kind to her sister. Another is irrita- 
ble — he often gets into a passion. Another is forward and 
talkative ; her friends have often reproved her, but she has 
never made any systematic effort to reform. Another is 
indolent — often neglecting known duties and wasting time. 
Thus all young persons are the victims of some moral dis- 
ease or other, from which, though they may be Christians, 
they are not fully freed. Now just try my prescription. 
Take the two steps which I have described ; confess fully 
and minutely the particular fault which you wish first to 
correct — for it is best to attack one enemy at a time — and 
then — with careful watchfulness keep a record of your subse- 
quent transgressions. You can not do this with a propei 



342 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Young and old persons. 



spirit of dependence on God and accountability to him, with- 
out breaking the chains of any fault or habit which may 
now be domineering over you. The efficacy of such mora] 
treatment in these moral diseases is far more certain and 
powerful than that of any cordial in restoring the fainting 
powers. I hope therefore that every young person who reads 
this chapter will not merely express a cool approbation of 
these plans, but will resolutely set to work in examining 
his character, and in trying these methods of altering or 
improving it. 

" Every young person ? — And why not those who are not 
young?" says some one. "Why can not the old correct 
their faults in this way ?" They can, but they will not. I 
recommend it exclusively to the young, not because it is less 
efficacious with others, but because others will not cordially 
try it. The difficulty which prevents middle-aged persons 
from going on as rapidly as the young in improvement of 
every kind, is, that they are not so easily induced to make 
the effort. It is a mistake to suppose that it is easier for a 
child to reform his character than for a man, if the same 
efforts were made. A child is told of his faults ; the rules 
of politeness governing in social life forbid us to mention them 
with the same freedom to a man. A child is encouraged 
and urged forward in efforts to improve ; the man is solitary 
in his resolutions and unaided in his efforts. A child is will- 
ing to do any thing. Confession is not so humiliating to 
him ; making a catalogue of his sins is not so shrunk from. 
If the man of fifty is willing to do what the boy of fifteen 
does, he may improve even faster than he. Some of the 
most remarkable cases of rapid alteration and improvement 
of character which I have ever known have been in the 
decline of age. 

Let me say therefore respectfully to those who may chance 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 343 



Correcting faults. Temptations. An irritable temper. 

to read this book, but who are beyond the age for which it 
is specially intended, that we all have faults which we ought 
to discover and attempt to mend. They affect our happiness. 
They bring us down lower than we should otherwise stand 
in the estimation of others. Thus they impede our influence 
and usefulness. If we would now explore and correct these, 
taking some such thorough-going course as I have described, 
how rapidly we should at once rise in usefulness and hap- 
piness ! Instead of that, however, we listen to moral and 
religious instruction from the pulpit, to admire the form of its 
expression, or perhaps to fix the general principles in our 
hearts ; but the business of exploring thoroughly our own 
characters to ascertain their real condition, and of going 
earnestly to work upon all the detail of actual and minute 
repair — pulling down in this place, building up in that, and 
altering in the other — ah f this is a business with which we 
have but little to do. 

But I must go on with my account of the means of cor- 
recting faults, for I have one more expedient to describe. 1 
have been digressing a little to urge you to apply practically 
what I say, to yourselves, and resolve to try the experiment 
This one more expedient relates to your exposure to tempta- 
tion. In regard to temptation you have I think two duties. 
First, to avoid all great temptations ; and secondly, to en- 
counter the small ones with a determination, by God's bless- 
ing, to conquer them. 

A boy knows, I will imagine, that he has an irritable 
spirit ; he wishes to cure himself of it. I will suppose that 
he has taken the two steps which I have already described, 
and now as the morning comes, and he is about to go forth 
to the exposures of the day, we may suppose him to hold 
the following conversation with his father, or some other 
friend. 

"I have made a great many resolutions," says the boy, 



344 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Conversation between the boy and his friend. 



"and I am really desirous of not becoming angry and im- 
patient to-day. But I always do, and I am afraid I always 
shall. ,, 

"Always?" asks his friend. "Do you get angry every 
day?" 

" I do almost always ; whenever any thing happens to 
vex me." 

" What are the most common things that -happen to vex 
you : 

"Why, I almost always get angry playing marbles. 
George does not play fair, and I get angry with him, and 
he gets angry with me." 

" Do you always get angry playing marbles ?•" 

" We do very often." 

" Then I advise you to avoid playing marbles altogether. 
I know you like to play, but if you find it affords too great a 
temptation for you to resist, you must abandon it, or you will 
not cure yourself of your fault. What other temptations do 
you meet with?" 

" Why I get put out with my sums at school." 

" Get put out with your sums ! — What do you mean by 
that?" 

" I get impatient and vexed because I can not do them, 
and then I get angry with them." 

" What, with the sums /" 

"Yes ; with the sums, and the book, and the slate, and 
every thing else ; I know it is very foolish and wicked." 

" Well ; now I advise you to take your slate and pencil 
to-day, and find some difficult sum, such a one as you have 
often been angry with, and sit down calmly to work, and see 
if you can not go through it, and fail of doing it, and yet 
not feel vexed and angry. Think before you begin, how sad 
it is for you to be under the control of wicked passions, 
and ask God to help you, and then go on expecting to find 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 345 

Great and small temptations. 

difficulty, and endeavoring to meet it with a calm ana 
patient spirit. If you succeed in this, you will really im- 
prove while you do it. By gaining one victory over your- 
self you will find another more easy. 

" Which do you think is the greatest temptation for you, 
to play marbles or to do sums ?" 

" Why, I think that to play marbles is ; because the boys 
don't play fair." 

" Yery well ; now I wish you to practice the easiest les- 
son first. Conquer yourself in your arithmetical tempta- 
tion first, and then perhaps you can encounter the other. 
And I wish you would watch yourself to-day, and observe 
what are the trials which are too great for you to bear, and 
avoid them until you have acquired more moral strength. 
But do not flee from any temptation which you think you 
can resist. By meeting and resisting it, you will increase 
your power." 

Now this is the course to be pursued in the correction of 
all faults. The temptations which you think you will not 
be successful in resisting, you ought to avoid, no matter at 
what sacrifice ; and though you ought not to seek the trial of 
your strength, yet where Providence gives you the trial, go 
forward to the effort which it requires, with confidence in 
his help, and with resolution to do your duty. If you have 
the right spirit, he will help you ; and virtuous principle 
will grow by any exposure which does not overpower it. 

I have however spoken more fully on this subject in the 
chapter of discipline and trial, where the general effect of 
such discipline as we have here to pass through was pointed 
out. I have here only alluded to it again to show how 
important an auxiliary it is in the correction of particular 
faults. 

But I must pass to the consideration of another part of 
ray subject, for the correction of absolute faults of character 



346 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Growing in grace. Unavailing efforts. The mother. 

is by no means the only, or even the most important object 
Df attention in Christian progress. The spirit of piety, which 
is the mainspring of all these efforts in the improvement of 
the character, is to be directly cultivated. . The command 
"grow in grace," seems to refer to this progress in the spirit 
of piety itself . The correction of external faults, and the 
improvement of the character in all those aspects in which 
intercourse between man and man is concerned, will result 
from it. But it is itself something different from these 
external changes. To grow in grace, is to have the heart 
itself so changed that sin shall become more and more hate- 
ful, the promotion of the general happiness an increasing 
object of interest and desire, and the soul more and more 
closely united to God, so as to receive all its happiness from him. 

This now is a change in the affections of the heart. 
Improvement of conduct will result from it, but it is in itself 
essentially different from right conduct. It is the fountain, 
from which good actions are the streams. I wish, therefore, 
that every one of my readers would now turn his attention 
to this subject, and inquire with me, by what means he 
may grow most rapidly in attachment to the Savior, and in 
hatred of sin. A very unwise and ineffectual kind of effort 
is very often made, which I shall first describe ; and then 
I shall proceed to describe the means which may be 
successful, in drawing the heart closer and closer to Je- 
hovah. 

To illustrate the unavailing efforts which are sometimes 
made to awaken in the heart a deeper and deeper interest in 
piety, I will suppose a case, and it is a case which is exceed- 
ingly common. A professing Christian — and, to make the 
^ase more definite, I will suppose the individual to be the 
mother of a family — feels that she does not love God as she 
ought, and she is consequently unhappy. She is aware that 
her affections are placed too strongly, perhaps, upon her family 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 347 

The man of business. 

— her children. She knows that she is a wanderer from 
her Savior, aud feels at all times, when she thinks of religious 
duty, a settled uneasiness which mars many of her enjoy- 
ments, and often saddens her heart. Now, what does she do 
to remedy this difficulty ? Why, when the week is past, 
and her hour of prayer on the Sabbath has arrived, she 
thinks a little of her cold and wayward condition, and tries, 
by direct efforts, to arouse in her heart feelings of penitence 
and love. But she tries in vain. I acknowledge that she is 
very guilty in being in such a state, but if she is so, her 
direct efforts to feel will be vain. She will have, for an 
hour, a weary and melancholy struggle — the Sabbath will 
pass away, rendered gloomy by her condition and her re- 
flections — and Monday morning will come, with its worldly 
cares and enjoyments, to drift her still farther from God and 
from happiness. 

A man of business, engrossed in the management of his 
prosperous affairs, knows that he is not living and acting as 
a servant of God. And yet he is a member of a Christian 
church ; — he has solemnly consecrated himself to the Savior ; 
and when he thinks of it, he really wishes that his heart was 
in a different state. The world however holds him from 
day to day, and the only thing which he does to save him- 
self from wandering to a returnless distance from God, is to 
strive a little, morning and evening, at his short period of 
secret devotion, to feel his sins. He makes direct effort to 
urge his heart to gratitude. He perhaps kneels before the 
throne of God, and knowing how little love for God he 
really feels, he exerts every nerve to bring his heart to 
exercise more. He is trying to control his affections by 
direct effort — and he probably fails. He is striving in vain. 
He soon becomes discouraged, and yields himself again to 
the current which is bearing him away from holiness and 
peace. 



348 YOUNG CHUISTIAIN. 



The dejected Christian. 



I once knew a young man — and while I describe his case 
it is possible that there may be many of the readers of this 
chapter who will say his case is like theirs — who had a 
faint hope that he was a Christian ; but his penitence was 
in his opinion so feeble and heartless, his love to God was so 
cold, and his spark of grace, if there was any in his heart, 
was so faint and languishing, that he scarcely dared to hope. 
He did not therefore take the stand, or perform the duties of 
a Christian. He thought that he must make more progress 
himself in piety before he endeavored to do any thing for 
others ; he was accordingly attempting to make this progress. 
He struggled with his own heart to awaken a stronger love 
and deeper penitence there ; but it was a sad and almost 
fruitless struggle. He became dejected and desponding ; he 
thought that his heart was still hardened and cold in sin ; 
he strove against this, but he found that religious feeling 
would not come at his bidding. He continued thus for a 
long time, unhappy himself and useless to others. 

The principle which I have been designing to illustrate 
by these cases is, that the best way to improve or alter the 
affections of the heart, is not by direct efforts upon the heart 
itself. The degree of power which man has directly over 
the affections of the heart is very limited. A mere theorist 
will say that he must have entire control over them, or 
they can not be blameworthy or praiseworthy. But no one 
but the mere theorist will say this. A benevolent man, 
during an inclement season, sends fuel to a destitute and 
suffering family, and perhaps goes himself to visit and to 
cheer the sick one there. Does not he take a great pleas- 
ure in thus relieving misery, and is not this benevolent 
feeling praiseworthy ? And yet it is not under his direct 
control ; he can not possibly help taking pleasure in relieving 
suffering. Suppose I were to say to him, " Sir, just to try a 
philosophical experiment, will you now alter your heart, so 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 349 

Direct efforts. Free agency. 



as to be glad to know that people are suffering. I will 
tell you the facts about a child which perished with the 
cold ; and while I do it, will you so alter your heart (which 
must be entirely under your control, or else its emotions 
can not be praiseworthy or blameworthy) as to delight in 
that cruel suffering?" How absurd would this be! The 
man must be pained to hear of sufferings which he can 
not help, and yet sympathy with the sorrows of others is 
praiseworthy. 

Again, sister and sister have become alienated from each 
other. The feeling which was at first coldness has become 
dislike. And, unnatural as it is that they whom God has 
placed so near together, should remain sundered in heart, 
they have become fixed and settled in that condition. Sup- 
pose the parent were to say to them, " I know you can love 
each other, and you ought to love each other, and I com- 
mand you immediately to do it." They may fear parental 
displeasure, they may know that they should be happier if 
they were united in heart ; but will affection come at once 
at their call ? 

The entire free agency of man, by which is meant his free- 
dom from all external restraint in his conduct, can not be as- 
serted too frequently, or kept too distinctly in the view of every 
human being. There is however a possibility of presenting 
this subject in such a light as to lead the mind to the erro- 
neous idea that all the affections of the heart are in the same 
sense under the control of the will as the motions of the body 
are. I do not mean that any respectable writer or preachei 
will advocate such a view, but only that in expressing his 
belief in human freedom, in sweeping and unqualified terms, 
he may unintentionally convey the impression. There is 
unquestionably a very essential difference between a man's 
freedom of feeling and his freedom of acting. A man may 
be induced to act by a great variety of means : a motive of 



350 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Freedom of feeling and freedom of action. 



any kind, if strong enough, determines the will. Suppose, 
for instance, a sea-captain wishes to induce a man to leap off 
from the deck of his ship into the sea ; he may attempt in a 
great many ways to obtain his object. He may command 
him to do it, and threaten punishment if he disobeys ; he 
may hire him to do it ; he may show the sailor that his little 
son has fallen overboard, and thus induce the parent to risk 
his life that he may save that of his child. He may thus in 
various ways appeal to very different feelings of the human 
heart — love of money, fear, or parental . affection — and if by 
any of these, the volition, as metaphysicians term it, that is, 
the determination, can be formed, the man goes overboard 
in a moment. He can do any thing which, from any motive 
whatever, he resolves to do. 

In regard however to the feelings of the heart, it is far 
different. Though man is equally a free agent in regard to 
these, it is in quite a different way ; that is, the feelings of 
the heart are not to be managed and controlled by simple 
determination, as this external conduct may be. Suppose, 
for instance, the captain wished that the sailor should be 
grateful for some favor which he had received, and of which 
he had been entirely regardless ; and suppose that he should 
command him to be grateful, and threaten him with some 
punishment if he should refuse ; or suppose ke should en- 
deavor to hire him to be grateful, or should try to persuade 
him to be thankful for past favors in order to obtain more. 
It would be absurd. Gratitude, like any other feeling of the 
heart, though it is of a moral nature, and though man is 
perfectly free in exercising it, will not always come whenever 
the man determines to bring it. The external conduct is 
thus controlled by the determination of the mind, on what- 
ever motives those determinations may be founded ; but the 
feelings and affections of the heart are under no such direct 
control 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 351 



illustration, Metaphysical controversj'. 

There is certainly, for all practical purposes, a great dis- 
tinction between the heart and the conduct — between the 
moral condition of the soul and those specific acts which 
arise from it. Two children, a dutiful and a disobedient one, 
are walking together in a beautiful garden, and suddenly the 
gardener informs them that their father did not wish them 
to walk in a certain part of the ground, which they were just 
then entering. Now, how different will be the effect which 
this annunciation will make upon them ! The one will 
immediately obey, leaving with alacrity the place which his 
father did not wish him to pass. The other will linger and 
make excuses, or perhaps altogether disobey. Just before 
they received the communication they were perhaps not 
thinking of their father at all ; but though their minds were 
acting on other subjects, they possessed distinct and opposite 
characters as sons, characters which rendered it probable 
that one would comply with his father's wishes as soon as 
those wishes should be known, and that the other would not. 
So in all other cases ; a dishonest man is dishonest in char- 
acter when he is not actually stealing, and an humble and 
devoted Christian will have his heart in a right state even 
when he is entirely engrossed in some intellectual pursuit, or 
involved in the perplexities of business. 

I am aware that, among metaphysical philosophers, there 
is a controversy on the question whether all that is of a moral 
nature, that is, all that is blameworthy or praiseworthy in 
human character, may not be shown to consist of specific, 
voluntary acts, of the moral being. Into this question I do 
not intend to enter here ; — for if what is commonly called 
character, in contradistinction from conduct, may be resolved 
into voluntary acts, it is certainly to be done only by a nice 
metaphysical analysis, which common Christians can not be 
expected to follow. 

To illustrate the nature of this subject, that is, the dis- 



362 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Story of the duke of Gloucester. 



tinction, for all 'practical purposes, between character and 
conduct, I select the following narrative, which I take from 
Hume, with some alterations of form to make it more intelli- 
gible in this connection. 

In early periods of the English history, Richard, duke of 
Gloucester, an intriguing and ambitious man, formed the 
design of usurping the throne. The former king had left 
several children, who were the proper heirs to the crown. 
They were however young, and Richard gained possession 
of the government, ostensibly that he might manage it until 
these children should become of age, when he was to surren- 
der it to them again — but really with the design of putting 
them and all their influential friends to death, and thus 
making himself king. 

One of the most powerful and faithful friends of the young 
princes was Lord Hastings, and the following is the account 
which Hume gives of the manner in which he was murdered 
by Richard. 

" The duke of Gloucester knowing the importance of gain- 
ing Lord Hastings, sounded at a distance his sentiments by 
means of a lawyer who lived in great intimacy with that 
nobleman ; but found him impregnable in his allegiance and 
fidelity to the children of Edward, who had ever honored 
him with his friendship. He saw, therefore, that there were 
no longer any measures to be kept with him ; and he deter- 
mined to ruin utterly the man whom he despaired of enga- 
ging to concur in his usurpation. Accordingly, at a certain 
day, he summoned a council in the Tower, whither Lord 
Hastings, suspecting no design against him, repaired without 
hesitation. The duke of Gloucester was capable of commit- 
ting the most bloody and treacherous murders with the utmost 
coolness and indifference. On taking his place at the council 
table, he appeared in the easiest and most jovial humoi 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 



353 



Richard's artful plan. 



imaginable ; he seemed to indulge himself in familiar con- 
versation with the counselors before they should enter on 
business ; and having paid some compliments to one of 
them, on the good and early strawberries which he raised 
in his garden, he begged the favor of having a dish of them. 
A servant was immediately dispatched to bring them to 
him. Richard then left the council, as if called away by 
some other business : but soon after returning, with an 
angry and inflamed countenance he asked them, ' What 
punishment do those deserve that have plotted against my 
life, who am so nearly related to the king, and am intrusted 
with the administration of government ?' Hastings replied 
that they merited the punishment of traitors. ' These trait- 
ors,' then cried the protector, ' are the sorceress, my brother's 
wife, and Jane Shore, his companion, with others their asso- 
ciates : see to what a condition thev have reduced me hv 




KING EICHASQ 



354 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Violent measures. 

their incantations and witchcraft.' As lie said this, he laid 
bare his arm, all shriveled and decayed ; but the counselors, 
who knew that this infirmity had attended him from his 
birth, looked on each other with amazement ; Lord Hastings 
began to be alarmed : 

" \ Certainly, my lord,' said he, ' if they be guilty of these 
crimes they deserve the severest punishment. ' 

" ' And do you reply to me,' exclaimed Richard, * with 
your ifs and your ands ? You are the chief abettor of that 
witch Shore ! You are yourself a traitor : and by St. Paul 
I will not dine before your head be brought me.' 

" He struck the table with his hand : armed men rushed 
in at the signal : the counselors were thrown into the ut- 
most consternation ; and one of the guards, as if by accident 
or a mistake, aimed a blow with a poll-axe at one of the lords, 
named Stanley, who, aware of the danger, slunk under the 
table ; and though he saved his life, received a severe wound 
in the head in Richard's presence. Hastings was seized, 
was hurried away, and instantly beheaded on a timber log 
which lay in the court of the Tower. Two hours after, a 
proclamation, so well penned and fairly written that it must 
have been prepared before, was read to the citizens of Lon- 
don, enumerating his offenses, and apologizing to them for 
the sudden execution of that nobleman, who was very popu- 
lar among them." 

After this act of violence Richard went forward with hia 
plans until he attained complete, ultimate success. He 
caused the unhappy young princes whose claims were be- 
tween him and the throne, to be confined in the Tower, a 
famous castle and prison on the banks of the Thames, in the 
lower part of London. He then sent orders to the constable 
of the Tower to put his innocent and helpless victims to 
death. The officer declined performing so infamous an act 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 355 

Murder of tho boys. Analysis of the story. 

He then ordered the constable to give up, for one night, the 
command of the Tower to another man. He did so, and the 
duke sent Sir James Tyrrel, who promised to see that his 
cruel orders were executed. But even Tyrrel was not sav- 
age enough to execute the children with his own hand ; he 
had not the hardihood even to look on while it was done. 
He accordingly employed three ruffians, whose names were 
Slater, Lighton, and Forrest, who came in the night-time to 
the door of the chamber in the Tower where the poor boys 
were confined. The murderers found them sleeping quietly 
in their bed. They killed them by suffocating them with 
the bolster and pillows, and then showed the dead bodies to 
Tyrrel, that he might assure Richard that they were no 
more. The ambitious and cruel duke became, by these 
means, Richard III. king of England. 

Now, in reviewing this story, and a hundred others might 
easily have been found which would have answered the pur- 
poses of this illustration just as well, we see that the guilt 
which it discloses may be easily analyzed into three distinct 
portions. I mean they are distinct for all popular and prac- 
tical purposes. A nice metaphysical investigation may or 
may not, I shall not consider which, reduce them again to 
the same. 

1. The external acts,. I mean the rushing in of armed 
men at the table — the wounding of Lord Stanley — the be- 
heading of Lord Hastings — the reading of the false proclama- 
tion — and the murder of the children in their bed. These 
deeds were not performed by Richard himself; he hired 
others to perpetrate these crimes, and he had not himself di- 
rectly any thing to do with them. It may be difficult to 
find, in the whole story, any one external act, which Richard 
did, which was wrong. 

2. The internal acts or determinations of mind. That 



356 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Richard's wicked character. 



is, the plans which Richard formed, and the wicked resolu- 
tions which he came to. He must, for example, at one 
time have hesitated whether he should have Hastings mur- 
dered or not. He weighed the difficulties and dangers on 
the one side, and the advantages to his cause on the other, 
and at last he resolved to do it. This was a mental act. 
In the same manner the determination to have the princes 
murdered was an act of his mind. It was savage and 
ahominahle in the extreme, hut what I wish the reader par- 
ticularly to notice in it is, that it was a voluntary act. He 
deliberated about it, and then he voluntarily resolved upon 
it. His whole conduct throughout this business is a series of 
most wicked mental acts, which he deliberately performed, 
and for which he was guilty, though he contrived to put off 
the external deeds of violence to the hands of others. 

3. The ambitious and cruel heart which instigated these 
acts. Washington would not have done such things. King 
Alfred would not have done them. No. Richard had, by 
a distinction which, for all the practical purposes of life, will 
always be made, a savage and an unprincipled character, 
without which he would not have done such things. Another 
man, when hesitating whether to murder two innocent boys, 
in order to prepare a way for himself to a throne, would have 
found principles of compassion and of justice coming up, he 
knows not how or whither, but still coming up to arrest his 
hand. Richard had no such obstacles as these to contend 
with. He was ambitious, and sanguinary, and unrelenting 
in character as well as in conduct. Before he performed 
any of these mental acts, that is, came to the wicked deter- 
minations named under the second head, he had a heart 
which fitted him exactly for them. 

It is evident too, — and this is a point of the greatest im- 
portance, — that this cruel and ambitious disposition, which 
was the origin of all his wicked plans, was not voluntary in 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT 35** 



Seise in which character is voluntary. 



the same sense in which the plans themselves were so. In 
regard to his positive determination to have the children 
murdered, for example, he deliberated, and then voluntarily 
decided upon it. But who supposes that he ever deliberated, 
while he was carrying forward his schemes, whether he 
would be a cruel or a merciful man, and decided upon the 
former ? When he awoke each morning, he undoubtedly 
thought about the coming day, and formed his designs. He 
said to himself, " I will do this, or I will slop that. I w T ill 
have this man killed to-day, or I will banish that man." 
But who imagines that, every morning, he considered and 
decided whether he should be virtuous or vicious that day in 
heart ? Who can suppose that he formed such resolutions 
as these : " I will be a cruel man to-day ; I will have no 
principle and no compassion for others, but will delight only 
in my own ambition ?" No. He was cruel, and ambitious, 
and sanguinary, without determining to be so ; for the ques- 
tion, what general character he should cherish, probably 
never came up. All that he deliberated and decided upon 
unquestionably was, by what specific plans he should gratify 
the impulses of his wicked heart. He determined upon these 
plans, but he did not determine upon the impulses. He 
would sometimes resolve to compass the destruction of an 
enemy, or to tako certain steps which should lead him to the 
throne ; but he never said to himself, " Now I will awaken 
in myself an impulse of cruelty ; now I will call up into my 
heart ungovernable ambition and love of power." 'No. 
These feelings reigned in his heart from day to day, without 
any direct effort on his part to keep them there. How they 
came, and why they remained, is not my present purpose to 
inquire. All I mean here to insist upon is, that they were 
not, like the plans of iniquity which he formed, the result of 
direct choice and determination : and consequently they were 



o5S YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Distinction between character and conduct. Moral obligation. 

not voluntary, in the same sense in which these plans them- 
selves were the result of direct volition. 

It may be said that this wicked state of heart was the re- 
sult of previous bad conduct, which had formed a habit of 
sin ; and perhaps it was. I am not attempting to account 
for it, but only to bring it to view. I am simply endeavor- 
ing to show that there is, independently of the conduct, 
whether external or internal acts are meant by that term, a 
state of heart from which that conduct flows. 

Such considerations as these, and many others which might 
be introduced if necessary, plainly show that man's moral 
feelings are far less under his direct control than his intellec- 
tual or his bodily powers. He may try to lift a weight — he 
may try to run, to think, or to understand — and he will prob- 
ably succeed ; but it is hard to love or to hate by merely try- 
ing to do so. But after stating thus, and illustrating this 
principle, there is one sentence which I ought to write in 
capitals, and express with the strongest emphasis in my power. 
The heart is not independent of our control in such a sense 
as to free us from moral obligation and accountability. 
We are most unquestionaly free in the exercise of every 
good and of every evil feeling of the heart, and we are 
plainly accountable for them most fully, though we may not 
have exerted a direct determination or volition to bring them 
into being. 

But is there any practical advantage, it may be asked, in 
drawing this distinction between the heart and the conduct ? 
There is a great practical advantage, otherwise I should by 
no means have taken so much pains to exhibit it ; for although 
the intellectual effort which is necessary on the part of the 
reader in going into such a discussion is of great advantage, I 
should not have entered upon it with that object alone. I 
design to introduce nothing into this book but what will be 
of practical utility. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 



Importance of it. 



It is then practically important that we should all under- 
stand, not only that our conduct — by which I mean our acts, 
whether internal or external — is wrong ; but also that we 
have within us an evil heart, inclining us to go astray ; and 
that this evil heart itself is distinct from the going-astray 
which results from it. A clear conception of this is the only 
safeguard against that self-sufficiency which is destructive of 
all religious progress. " The heart," says the Scriptures 
"is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked!" 
The power which created it, alone can change its tendencies, 
so as to make it as easy and as natural for us to do right as 
it is now to do wrong. To this power we must look. We 
must look to God, too, with a feeling of distrust of ourselves, 
and a conviction that help can come only from him. " 
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the 
body of this death ?"' Yes, free as man is, and fully and en- 
tirely accountable as he is, for all his conduct, there is a sense 
in which he is a miserable slave to sin, in wretched bondage 
to a tyrant, from whose chains no struggles of his own will 
ever set him free. When he realizes this, and feels hum- 
bled and powerless, and utterly dependent upon divine grace, 
then God is ready to come into his soul to purify and save him. 

In thus discussing this subject here, it has not been my in- 
tention to go metaphysically into the subject of the nature of 
moral agency. My design has only been to show to Chris- 
tians, that the feelings of penitence for sin and ardent love to 
the Savior, are not feelings which they are to bring to their 
hearts by struggling directly to introduce them. You can 
not be penitent by simply trying to be penitent. You can 
not hate sin or love God more sincerely than you do, by sim- 
ply trying to feel thus. The heart is to be molded and 
guided in other ways. 

Some of these ways bv which the heart is to be led more 
and more to God, I shall describe. 



360 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Ways of influencing th3 character. Effects of Christian knowledge, 

1. By acquiring true knowledge. If you are a Christian 
at all, your piety will be increased and strengthened by 
bringing often before your mind those truths which show the 
necessity and the moral beauty of piety. Instead of strug- 
gling directly to bring penitence to your heart by an effort 
of the will, spend a part of your little season of retirement 
in reflecting on the consequences of sin. Look around you 
and see how many families it has made miserable, how many 
hearths it has desolated ! Think of the power it has had in 
ruining the w r orld in which we live, and how dreadful w r ould 
be its ravages, if God should permit it to have its way among 
all his creatures. Reflect how it has destroyed your own 
peace of mind, injured your usefulness, brought a stain upon 
the Christian name. Reflect upon such subjects as these, 
so as to increase the vividness of your knowledge — and 
though you make no effort to feel penitence, even if you do 
not think of penitence at all, it will rise in your heart if there 
is any grace there. You can not look upon the consequences 
of sin without repenting that you have ever assisted to pro- 
cure them. Peter did not repent of his treachery by trying 
to feel sorry. The Lord turned and looked upon Peter ; that 
look brought with it recollections. He saw clearly his rela- 
tion to his Savior, and the ingratitude of his denial. 

It is so with all other emotions of piety. You will not suc- 
ceed in loving God supremely by simply making the effort to 
do so. Look at his goodness and mercy to you ; see it in the 
thousand forms in which it shines upon you. Do not dwell 
upon it in generals, but come to minute particulars ; and 
whether old or young, and whatever may be the circum- 
stances of your lives, reflect carefully upon God's kind deal* 
ings with you. Are you a.mother ? — as you hold your infant 
upon your knee, or observe its playful brothers and sisters in 
health and happiness around you, consider a moment by 
whose goodness they were given to you, and by whose mercy 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 



361 



The cbild. 



Gratituae. 



they are daily spared. Are you a child ? — look upon the 
comforts, and privileges, and sources of happiness which God 
has given you — and while you view them, remember that 
every week there are multitudes of children around you suf- 
fering from cold, from hunger, from neglect, or who are sum- 
moned to an early 

grave. I have stood ^ 

at the bedside of a 
child who was, a fort- 
night before, in her 
class at the Sabbath 
School — and seen her 
sink from day to day 
under the grasp of 
sickness and pain, until 
her reason failed, and 
her strength was gone, 
and at last she slum- 
bered in death. A few 
days afterward she was 
deposited, in the depth 
of winter, in her cold 

grave. Blustering storms and wintry tempests do not in- 
deed disturb the repose of the tomb, but when you are sitting in 
health and happiness at your own cheerful fireside, and hear 
the howling winds which sweep around you — or in a more 
genial season feel the warm breath of spring upon your health- 
ful cheek — can you think of the thousand cases like the one 
I have alluded to, and not feel grateful to your kind Pro- 
tector ? If your heart is not entirely unrenewed, these affec- 
tions will be warmly awakened while you reflect upon 
God's goodness, and thus learn how much you are indebted 
to him. 

It is thus with other feelings ; they are to come to the 

a 




THE COLD GRAVE. 



3G2 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Christian action. Why Howard became interested for prisoner*. 



heart, not by the direct effort to bring them there, but by 
bringing to view the truths which are calculated to awaken 
them. If your heart is right toward God in any degree, the 
presentation of these truths will awaken penitence and love ; 
and the more knowledge you acquire in regard to your rela- 
tions to your Maker and his dealings with you, the more 
rapid will be your growth in grace. 

2. The second means of growing in grace is Christian 
action. Faith will not only show itself by works, but works 
will increase faith. Let a man make an effort to relieve a 
sufferer, and he becomes more and more interested for him. 
He first sends him a little food, or a little fuel, when he is 
sick, and he finds that this does good ; it relieves the pressure, 
and brings cheering and encouragement to the family, before 
just ready to despair. The benefactor, then, becoming more 
interested in the case, sends a physician ; and when the pa- 
tient is cured, he procures business for him ; and thus goes 
on from step to step, until perhaps at last he feels a greater 
interest in that one case than in all the suffering poor of 
the town beside. It all began by the simple act of sending a 
little wood, which was perhaps almost accidental, or was at 
least prompted by a very slight benevolent feeling. This 
feeling has, however, increased to a strong and steady prin- 
ciple ; and to what is its increase owing ? — simply to his 
benevolent effort. 

I have already once or twice alluded to the benevolent 
Howard, who went through Europe, visiting the prisons, 
that he might learn the condition of their unhappy tenants 
and relieve their sufferings. And how was it that he be- 
came so much interested in prisoners ? It devolved upon 
him, in the discharge of some public duty in his own county 
in England, to do something for the relief of prisoners there 
•—and the moment that he began to do something for the 
prisoners, that moment he began to love them ; — and the 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 363 

Paul. Dependence upon the Holy Spirit. 

more he did for them, the more strongly he was attached to 
their cause. 

The Apostle Paul is one of the most striking examples of 
the power of Christian effort to promote Christian love. He 
gave himself wholly to his work, and the consequence was, 
he became completely identified with it. He loved it better 
than he did life, and the strongest expressions of attachment 
to the Savior that the Bible contains, are to be found in the 
language which he used when he was drawing toward the 
close of his labors upon earth. 

If we then would grow in attachment to our Savior, we 
must do something for him.' But notice — it is not the mere 
external act which will promote your growth in piety ; the 
act must be performed, in some degree at least, from Chris- 
tian principle. You can all put this method immediately 
to the test. Think of something which you can do, by which 
you will be co-operating with God. The design of God is 
to relieve suffering and promote happiness wherever there 
is opportunity ; and as sin is the greatest obstacle in the 
way, he directs his first and chief efforts to the removal of 
sin. Now endeavor to find something which you can do, 
by which sin can be removed or suffering alleviated, and 
go forth to the work feeling that you are co-operating with 
your Savior in his great and benevolent plans. Perhaps 
you will find an opportunity in your own family — or per- 
haps in your neighborhood ; but wherever it is, if you go 
forth to the duty under the influence of attachment to the 
Savior and love to men, these feelings will certainly be 
increased by the effort. You will feel, while you do it, 
that you are a co-worker with God— that you are as it 
were making common cause with him, and the bonds 
by which you were before only loosely bound to him are 
strengthened. 

Go forward then efficiently in doing good ; set your hearts 



364 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



An evil heart. 



upon it. If you feel that you have but little love to God, 
bring that little into exercise, and it will grow. 

3. The last of the means of growing in grace which I 
shall now mention, is an humble sense of dependence on 
the influences of the Holy Spirit, and sincere prayer for 
those influences. I freely acknowledge the difficulty which 
this subject presents. If we attempt to form any theory by 
which we can clearly comprehend how accountability can 
rest upon a soul which is still dependent upon a higher 
power for all that is good, we shall only plunge ourselves 
into endless perplexity. We know that we are accountable 
for all our feelings, as well as for our words and deeds, and 
at the same time we know that those feelings within us 
which reason and conscience condemn, will come, unless the 
Holy Spirit saves us from being their prey. How emphati- 
cally does the language of Paul describe this our melancholy 
subjection to this law of sin ' 

" For I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth 
no good thing : for to will is present with me ; but how to 
perform that which is good, I find not. For the good that 
I would, I do not : but the evil which I wculd not, that I 
do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, 
but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that when 
I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in 
the law of God, after the inward man. But I see another 
law in my members warring against the law of my mind, 
and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in 
my members. wretched man that I am ! who shall de- 
liver me from the body of this death?" 

The conclusion to which he comes in the i:ext verse is the 
right one, that God will deliver us through Jesus Christ our 
Lord. We must feel, then, humbly dependent on an influ- 
ence from above. Let us come daily to our Father in heav- 
en, praying him to draw us to the Savior ; we shall net 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 366 



Divine influence necessary. 



come unless he draw us. Let us feel dependent every day 
for a fresh supply of divine grace to keep these hearts in a 
proper frame. It is not enough to express this feeling in our 
morning prayer ; we must carry it with us into all the cir- 
cumstances of the day. When we are going into temptation 
we must say, "Lord, hold thou me up and then I shall he 
safe," and we must say it with a feeling of entire moral 
dependence on God. 

Nor need we fear that this sense of dependence on God 
will impair our sense of personal guilt, when we willfully sin 
against him. I do not attempt to present any theory hy 
which the two may he shown to he compatible with each 
other. We can not easily understand the theory, hut we all 
know that we are guilty for living in sin ; and we feel and 
know that our hearts do not change simply hy our deter- 
mining that they shall. Since then the two truths are clear, 
let us cordially admit them both. Let us in the spirit of 
humility, and entire trust in God's word, believe our Maker 
when he says, that he has mercy on whom he will have 
mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth. Let us believe this 
cordially, however difficult it may be to understand what 
can, in such a case, be the guilt of the hardened one : — and 
applying the declaration to our own case, let us come before 
him praying that he will turn our hearts to holiness ; and at 
the same time let us see and feel our guilt in neglecting duty 
and disobeying God as we do. 

This feeling of entire dependence on the Holy Spirit for 
moral progress is the safest and happiest feeling which the 
Christian can cherish. Such weakness and helplessness 
«as ours loves protection, and if we can fully make up our 
minds that there is a difficulty in this subject beyond our 
present powers to surmount, we can feel fully our own 
moral responsibility, and at the same time know that our 
dearest moral interests are in God's care. This feeling" is 



366 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Intellectual improvement. A finished education. 



committing our souls to our Savior's keeping. Were oui 
hearts entirely under our own direct control, independent 
of God, we, and we only, could be their keepers ; but if we 
have given our hearts to him, God has promised to keep us 
by his power. He is able to keep us. He has control, after 
all, in our hearts ; and if we are willing to put our trust in 
him, he will keep us from falling, and present us at last 
faultless before the throne of his glory with exceeding joy. 

II. INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 

It may perhaps seem strange that I should discuss the 
subject of intellectual progress in a book devoted to an 
explanation and enforcement of the principles of piety. 1 
should not do this were I not firmly persuaded that a 
regular aad uninterrupted intellectual progress is a duty 
which is peculiarly binding upon the Christian. Let the 
reader reflect a moment, that those intellectual powers which 
God has given him are intended to exist forever, and that 
if he shall be prepared at death to enter the world of happi- 
ness, they will go on expanding forever, adding not only to 
his means, but to his capacities of enjoyment. 

The great mass of mankind consider the intellectual 
powers as susceptible of a certain degree of development 
in childhood, co prepare the individual for the active duties 
of life. This degree of progress they suppose to be made 
before the age of twenty is attained, and hence they talk 
of an education being finished ! Now, if a parent wishes 
to convey the idea that his daughter has closed her studies 
at school, or that his son has finished his preparatory pro- 
fessional course, and is ready to commence practice, there 
is perhaps no strong objection to his using of the common 
phrase, that the education is finished ; but in any general or 
proper use of language, there is no such thing as a finished 
education. The most successful student that ever left a 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 367 

Object of education. 1. To strengthen the powers. 

school, or took his degree at college, never arrived at a good 
place to stop in his intellectual course. In fact, the farther 
he goes the more desirous will he feel to go on ; and if you 
wish to find an instance of the greatest eagerness and interest 
with which the pursuit of knowledge is prosecuted, you will 
find it undoubtedly in the case of the most accomplished and 
thorough scholar that the country can furnish, one who has 
spent a long life in study, and who finds that the farther he 
goes the more and more widely does the boundless field of 
intelligence open before him. 

Give up then, at once, all idea of finishing your education. 
The sole object of the course of discipline at any literary in- 
stitution in our land is not to finish, but just to show you how 
to begin : — to give you an impulse and a direction upon that 
course which you ought to pursue w r ith unabated and unin- 
terrupted ardor as long as you have being. 

It is unquestionably true, that every person, whatever aro 
his circumstances or condition in life, ought at all times to be 
making some steady efforts to enlarge his stock of knowledge, 
to increase his mental powers, and thus to expand the field 
of his intellectual vision. I suppose most of my readers are 
convinced of this, and are desirous, if the way can only be 
distinctly pointed out, of making such efforts. In fact, no 
inquiry is more frequently made by intelligent young persons 
than this : — " What course of reading shall I pursue ? What 
books shall I select, and what plan in reading them shall I 
adopt ?" These inquiries I now propose to answer. 

The objects of study are of several kinds ; some of the most 
important I shall enumerate. 

1. To increase our intellectual poivers. Every one knows 
that there is a difference of ability in different minds, but it 
is not so distinctly understood that every one's abilities may 
be increased or strengthened by a kind of culture adapted ex- 
pressly to this purpose ; — I mean a culture which is intended 



368 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Robinson Crusoe and Friday. 



not to add to the stock of knowledge, but only to increase in- 
tellectual power. Suppose, for example, that when Robinson 
Crusoe on his desolate island had first found Friday the sav- 
age, he had said to himself as follows : 

" This man looks wild and barbarous enough ; he is to re- 
main with me and help me in my various plans, but he could 
help me much more effectually if he were more of an intel- 
lectual being and less of a mere animal. Now I can increase 
his intellectual power by culture, and I will. But what shall 
I teach him ?" 

On reflecting a little farther on the subject, he would say 
to himself as follows : 

" I must not always teach him things necessary for him to 
know in order to assist me in my work, but I must try to 
teach him to think for himself. Then he will be far more 
valuable as a servant, than if he has to depend upon me for 
every thing that he does.' , 

Accordingly some evening when the two, master and man, 
have finished the labors of the day, Robinson is walking upon 
the sandy beach, with the wild savage by his side, and he 
concludes to give him his first lesson in mathematics. He 
picks up a slender and pointed shell, and with it draws care- 
fully a circle upon the sand. 

" What is that ?" says Friday. 

"It is what we call a circle," says Robinson. " I wish 
you now to come and stand here, and attentively consider 
what I am going to tell you about." 

Now Friday has, we will suppose, never given his serious 
attention to any thing, or rather he has never made a serious 
mental effort upon any subject for five minutes at a time in 
his life. The simplest mathematical principle is a complete 
labyrinth of perplexity to him. He comes up and looks at 
the smooth and beautiful curve which his master has drawn 
in the sand with a gaze of stupid amazement. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 369 



Robinson Crusoe's supposed experiment with Friday. 

"Now listen carefully to what I say/' says Robinson, 
" and see if you can understand it. Do you see this little 
point that I make in the middle of the circle ?" 

Friday says he does, and wonders what is to come from the 
magic character which he sees before him.* 

" This/' continues Robinson, " is a circle, and that point 
is the center. Now, if I draw lines from the center in any 
direction to the outside, these lines will all be equal." 

So saying, he draws several lines. He sets Friday to 
measuring them. Friday sees that they are equal, and is 
pleased, from two distinct causes ; one, that he has success- 
fully exercised his thinking powers, and the other, that he 
has learned something which he never knew before. 

Observe now that Robinson does not take this course with 
Friday because he wishes him to understand the nature of 
the circle. Suppose we were to say to him, " Why did you 
choose such a lesson as that for your savage ? You can 
teach him much more useful things than the properties of 
the circle. What good will it do him to know how to make 
circles ? Do you expect him to draw geometrical diagrams 
for you, or to calculate and project eclipses ?" 

" No," Robinson would reply ; " I do not care to make 
Friday understand the properties of the circle. But I would 
have him to be a thinking being, and if I can induce -him 
to think half an hour steadily and carefully, it is of no con- 
sequence upon what particular subject his thoughts are em- 
ployed. I chose the circle because that seemed easy and dis- 
tinct — suitable for the first lesson. I do not know that he 
will ever have occasion to make use of the fact that the radii 
of a circle are equal, as long as he shall live — but he will 
have occasion for the poiuer of 'patient attention and thought 
which he acquired while attempting to understand that 
subject." 

* See Vignette upon the title-page. 



70 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Conic sections. Difficult studies. 



This would unquestionably be sound philosophy, and a 
savage who should study such a lesson on the beach of his 
own wild island, would forever after be less of a savage 
than before. The effect upon his mental powers, of one 
single effort like that, would last ; and a series of such efforts 
would transform him from a fierce and ungovernable, but 
stupid animal, to a cultivated and intellectual man. 

Thus it is with all education. One great object is to in- 
ciease the powers of the mind, and this is entirely distinct 
from the acquisition of knoivledge. Scholars very often ask, 
when pursuing some difficult study, " What good will it do 
me to know this?" But that is not the question. They 
ought to ask, " "What good will it do me to learn it ? "What 
effect upon my habits of thinking, and upon my intellectual 
powers, will be produced by the efforts to examine and to 
conquer these difficulties ?" 

A very fine example of this is the study of conic sections, 
a difficult branch of the course of mathematics pursued in 
college ; a study which, from its difficulty and its apparent 
uselessness, is often very unpopular in the class pursuing it. 
The question is very often asked, " What good will it ever 
do us in after-life to understand all these mysteries of the 
parabola, and the hyperbola, and the ordinates, and abscissas, 
and asymptotes ?" The answer is, that the knowledge of the 
facts, whicn you acquire, will probably do you no good what- 
ever. That is not the object, and every college officer knows 
full well that the mathematical principles which this science 
demonstrates, are not brought into use in after-life by one 
scholar in ten. But every college officer, and every intelli- 
gent student who will watch the operations of his own mind 
and the influences which such exercises exert upon it, knows 
equally well that the study of the higher mathematics pro- 
duces an effect in enlarging and disciplining the intellec- 
tual powers, which the whole of life will not obliterate. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 371 

Acquisition of knowledge. 

Do not shrink then from difficult work in your efforts at 
intellectual improvement. You ought, if you wish to secure 
the greatest advantage, to have some difficult work, that you 
may acquire habits of patient research, and increase and 
strengthen your intellectual powers. 

2. The acquisition of knowledge. This is another object 
of intellectual effort ; and a moment's reflection will convince 
any one, that the acquisition of knowledge is the duty of all. 
Sometimes it has been said by an individual under the in- 
fluence of a misguided interest in religious truth, that he 
will have nothing to do with human learning ; he will 
study nothing but the Bible, and his leisure hours he 
will give to meditation and prayer — and thus he will de- 
vote his whole time and strength to the promotion of his 
progress in piety. But if there is any thing clearly manifest 
of God's intentions in regard to employment for man, it is 
that he should spend a very considerable portion of his time 
on earth in acquiring knoivledge — knowledge, in all the 
extent and variety in which it is offered to human powers. 
The whole economy of nature is such as to allure man to 
the investigation of it, and the whole structure of his mind 
is so framed as to qualify him exactly for the work. If now 
a person begins in early life, and even as late as twenty, and 
makes it a part of his constant aim to acquire knowledge 
— endeavoring every day to learn something which he did not 
know before, or to fix something in the mind which was be- 
fore not familiar, he will make an almost insensible, but very 
rapid and important progress. The field of his intellectual 
vision will widen and extend every year. His powers of 
mind as well as his attainments will be increased ; and as 
he can see more extensively, so he can act more effectually 
every month than he could in the preceding. He thus goes 
on through life, growing in knowledge and in intellectual 
and moral power ; and if his spiritual progress keeps pace, 



372 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Skill. Three experiments with Friday. 

as it ought, with his intellectual advancement, he is, with 
the divine assistance and blessing, exalting himself higher 
in the scale of being, and preparing himself for a loftier and 
wider field of service in the world to come. 

3. The acquisition of skill is a third object of intellectual 
effort , I point out clearly and separately the distinct objects 
which intellectual effort ought to have in view, that my 
readers may ascertain whether they are doing something to 
accomplish them all, and also in order that in all the par- 
ticular plans which they may adopt, they may have constantly 
in mind the purpose which is in view in each, so as the more 
effectually to secure it. I wish, therefore., that my readers 
would notice particularly this third head, for it is one which, 
though in some respects quite as important as either of the 
others, is not often very clearly pointed out. 

To recur to my illustration of Robinson Crusoe and his 
man Friday. The conversation which I supposed to be held 
with him on the subject of the circle, was not merely design- 
ed to give him information or skill, but to discipline and 
improve his intellectual powers by the exercise. Let us 
suppose now that the next day Robinson had concluded to 
narrate to Friday the story of his own past adventures, and 
sitting down upon a green bank by the side of their hut, had 
given him an outline of his early life in England — of his first 
coming to sea — of his wanderings and adventures on the great 
ocean, and of his final shipwreck on the island. He describes, 
as well as he can, the form and appearance of the great ship 
in which he had sailed, its spacious decks and numerous 
company, and makes him acquainted with his hope that, ere 
long, a similar ship, from that same native land, will appear 
in the horizon and come, attracted by their signals, to the 
island, and bear him away to his home. 

Now such a conversation as this is intended to give infor- 
mation. It may indeed be a useful discipline to Friday's 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 37'i 

Teaching him to count. 

powers to listen to it, but that is not its main design. 
Robinson's chief design is, to make his savage companion 
acquainted with certain facts, which it is on many ac- 
counts important that he should know. 

Now let us take a third case. My readers are all doubtless 
aware that savages can usually count only as far as they have 
fingers to illustrate their arithmetic. Some tribes can use 
both hands, counting as far as ten. and when they get beyond 
that they hold up both hands, shake their heads as if in per- 
plexity, and say " great many — great many** Other tribes 
can go no farther than one hand, and have no means for 
numbering beyond five. 

Now suppose Robinson were to undertake to teach Friday 
to count. He might say to himself that it would often be a 
great convenience to him if Friday were able to count, so that 
he might ascertain and express numbers higher than those 
which he could represent by his fingers. He accordingly 
commences the task, and perseveres day after day in the les- 
son. I say day after day, for, easy as it may seem to us, it is 
a matter of no small difficulty to teach a savage to count. 
Now, although there is unquestionably an important mental 
discipline secured by such an effort on the part of the savage, 
and although the learning to count is in one sense an acqui« 
sition of knowledge — it is, in a much more important sense, 
the acquisition of skill. By making the process of counting 
familiar, Friday is not so properly acquiring a knowledge of 
facts, as learning something to do. It is of the nature of skill 
which he is to use in future times for the benefit of himself 
and of Robinson. 

If you call to mind the various studies which are urged 
upon the attention of the young, you will find that skill, that 
is, ability to do something, is very often the object in view. 
It is so with arithmetic. In studying the fundamental rules, 
the main design is not to bring in information to your minds. 



374 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Study of mathematics. Imperfect education. 

but to teach you to do something. When you read history, 
you are acquiring knowledge — when you study rhetoric 01 
write composition for practice, you are acquiring skill. Now 
all these three objects in a good scheme of education are to 
be kept constantly in view, and to be regularly provided for. 
A young man at college, for instance, will study his demon- 
stration in mathematics in the morning, for the purpose of 
improving and strengthening his powers ; he will listen to 
a philosophical or chemical lecture, or study botany in the 
fields in the afternoon, to obtain knoivledge; and in the 
evening he will practice in his debating society, to acquire 
skill. These three things are distinct and independent, but 
all equally important in the business of life. If one is culti- 
vated and the others neglected, the man is very poorly quali- 
fied for usefulness ; and yet nothing is more common than 
such half-educated men. 

I have often known persons in whom the first of these 
objects alone was secured. You will recognize one who is in 
danger of such a result in his education, by his strong interest 
— if he is in college for example — in those pursuits of his 
class which require great mental effort ; and by his neglect 
of the equally important parts of his course, which would 
store his mind with facts. He attracts the admiration of his 
class by his fluent familiarity with all the mazes of the most 
intricate theorem or problem ; and he excites an equal sur- 
prise by his apparent dullness at the recitation in history, 
making, as he does, the most ludicrous blunders, and show- 
ing the most lamentable ignorance of every thing which is 
beyond the pale of demonstration. "When at last he comes 
out into the world, his mind is acute and powerful, bit he is 
an entire stranger to the scene in which he is to move ; he 
can do no good, because he does not know where his efforts 
are to be applied ; he makes the same blunders in real life 
that he did in college in its history, and is soon neglected 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 375 



Neglect of important duties. 



and foi gotten. He had cultivated simple power, but was 
without information or skill; his power was consequently 
almost useless. 

On the other hand, a young man may spend his whole 
strength in simply obtaining knowledge — neglecting the 
cultivation of mental power, or the acquisition of skill. 
He neglects his severer studies, and his various opportunties 
for practice. "Spherics!" says he, "and trigonometrical 
formulas ! what good will they ever do me ? I am not 
going to be an almanac-maker, or to gain my livelihood by 
calculating eclipses." So he reads history, and voyages, and 
travels, and devours every species of periodical literature 
which finds its way within college walls. He very probably 
neglects those duties which, if faithfully performed, would 
cultivate the powers of conversation, and writing, and public 
speaking ; and he comes into the world equally celebrated 
among all who know him, on the one hand for the variety and 
extent of his general knowledge, and on the other, for the 
slenderness of his original mental power, and his utter want 
of any skill in bringing his multifarious acquisitions to beai 
upon the objects of life. 

In the same manner I might illustrate the excessive pur- 
suit of the last of the objects I have named, namely, the ac- 
quisition of skill, but it is unnecessary. My readers will, I 
think, all clearly see that these objects are distinct, and that 
all are of great importance to every one. To be most exten- 
sively useful, you must have original mental power, and knowl- 
edge of facts, and skill to apply that knowledge in the most 
effectual manner. 

The illustrations which I have employed, have referred 
more directly to the cases of young men in a course of public 
education, but I have not intended that these principles 
should be exclusively applied to them. Xor are they to be 
confined in their application to the preparatory stages of edu- 



376 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Intellectual progress of a mother. 

cation. Take for example a young mother of a family. Shu 
ought at all times to be making daily intellectual progress, 
and this intellectual progress ought to be such as to secure a 
proportional attention to all the three objects which I have 
named. She ought to investigate something which shall task 
her powers to the utmost, so as to secure the discipline and im- 
provement of those poicers. She ought also to make regular 
and systematic efforts to acquire information — by reading 
and by conversation, enlarging as much as possible the field 
of her vision, so that she can the more fully understand the 
circumstances in which she is placed, and the means of influ- 
ence and usefulness within her reach. She ought also to 
adopt systematic plans for increasing her skill — by learning, 
for example, system in all her affairs — by studying improve- 
ments in the manner in which all her duties are performed 
— endeavoring to become more faithful, and systematic, and 
regular in all her employments. By this means, she may ac- 
quire dexterity in every pursuit, an important influence over 
other minds, and especially a higher skill in interesting, and 
instructing, and governing her children. 

But I must not go more into detail in this part of my sub- 
ject. The best means of intellectual improvement demand 
a volume instead of a chapter, though a chapter is all which 
can be properly appropriated to the subject in a work like this. 
What I have already said in regard to the three separate 
and distinct objects in view in education, has been chiefly 
designed to persuade my young readers to engage cheerfully 
and cordially in all the pursuits which those who are older 
and wiser than they have prescribed in the various literary 
institutions with which they are connected. I shall, with 
these remarks, leave the subject of the pursuit of study in 
literary seminaries, and close the chapter with a few di- 
rections in regard to such means of improvement as may be 
privately resorted to by individuals, in their efforts to improve. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 377 

Reading. System. 

1. Reading. There are several detached directions which 
will be of great service to you in your private reading, if 
they are faithfully followed. 

Read systematically. I mean by this, do not take up 
aud read any books because they merely chance to fall in your 
way. You see on your neighbor's table a book which, as 
you turn over the leaves in a very careless manner, appears to 
be interesting, as you say, and you think you would like to 
read it. You borrow it, carry it home, and at some con- 
venient time you begin. Soon, however, either from taking 
it up at a time when you were interested in something else, 
or from being frequently interrupted, or perhaps from the 
character of the book, you find it dull, and after wasting a 
few hours upon the first fifty pages, you turn over the remain- 
der of the leaves, and then send the book home. After a few 
days more, you find some other book by a similar accident, 
and pursue the same course. Such a method of attempting 
to acquire knowledge from books, will only dissipate the mind, 
destroy all habits of accurate thinking, and unfit you for any 
intellectual progress. 

But you must not go into the opposite extreme of draw- 
ing up for yourself a set of rules and a system of reading 
full enough to occupy you for years, and then begin upon 
that with the determination of confining yourself, at all 
hazards, rigidly to it. What I mean by systematic reading 
is this. 

Reflect upon your circumstances and condition hi life, 
and consider what sort of knowledge will most increase your 
usefulness and happiness. Then inquire of some judicious 
friend for proper books. If accident throws some book in 
your way, consider whether the subject upon which it treats 
is one which comes within your plan. Inquire about it, if 
you can not form an opinion yourself, and if you conclude to 
read it, persevere and finish it 



378 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Variety. Thorough reading. 



Systematic reading requires, too, that you should secure 
variety in your books. Look over the departments of hu- 
man knowledge, and see that your plan is so formed that it 
will give you some knowledge of them all. In regard to the 
precise time and manner in which you shall fill up the 
details, it is undoubtedly best not to form any exact plan. 
It is better to leave such to be decided by circumstances, and 
even by your inclinations, from time to time. You will enter 
with more spirit and success into the prosecution of any in- 
quiry, if you engage in it at a time when it seems alluring 
and interesting to you. 

Reading thoroughly. Avoid getting into the habit of go- 
ing over the page in a listless and mechanical manner. Make 
an effort to penetrate to the full meaning of your author, and 
think patiently of every difficult passage until you understand 
it ; or if it baffles your unassisted efforts have it explained. 
Thorough reading requires also that you should make yourself 
acquainted with all those attendant circumstances which en- 
able you the more fully to understand the author's meaning. 
Examine carefully the title-page and preface of every book 
that you read, in order that you may learn who wrote it, 
where it was written, and what it was written for. Have at 
hand, if possible, such helps as maps, and a gazetteer, and a 
biographical dictionary. Be careful, then, to find upon the 
map every place mentioned, and learn from the gazetteer 
what sort of a place it is. If an allusion is made to any cir- 
cumstance in the life of an eminent man, or in public history, 
investigate the allusion by books or by inquiry, so as fully to 
understand it. If possible, find other accounts of the trans- 
actions which your author is describing, and compare one 
with another ; reflect upon the differences in the statements, 
and endeavor to ascertain the truth. Such a mode of read- 
ing as this is a very slow way of getting over the pages cf a 
book, but it is a very rapid way of acquiring knowledge. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 379 

Short works. Conversation. 

Do not rashly undertake to read very extensive works. A 
young person will sometimes commence Hume's England, or 
Gibbon's Decline and Fall, or Hallam's Middle Ages, or some 
other extensive work, beginning it with no calculation of the 
time which will be required to complete it, and in fact with 
no definite plan whatever. Such an undertaking is almost 
always a failure. Any mind under twenty years of age will 
get wearied out again and again in going through a dozen 
octavo volumes on any subject whatever. There is no ob- 
jection to reading such works, but let it be in detached por- 
tions at a time. Select, for instance, from Hume's most in- 
teresting narrative, the reign of some one monarch, Elizabeth 
or Alfred ; or make choice of such a subject as the crusades, 
or the life of Mary Queen of Scots, and mark off such a por- 
tion of the whole work as shall relate to the topic thus chosen. 
This you can readily do, and with no greater difficulty on ac- 
count of being compelled to begin in the middle of the history, 
than must always be felt in reading works of that nature. 
If you begin at the beginning of a work, and go regularly 
through to the end, you will find a thousand cases in which 
the narrative which you read is connected with other his- 
tories in such a way as to demand the same effort to under- 
stand the connection, that will be necessary in the course 
that I have proposed. 

Form then, for your reading, short and definite plans. 
When you commence a work, calculate how long it will take 
you to finish it, and endeavor to adhere to the plan you shall 
form in regard to the degree of rapidity with which you will 
proceed. This habit, if once formed, will be the means of 
promoting regularity and efficacy in all your plans. 

II. Conversation. This topic deserves a volume, instead 
of the very brief notice which is all that is consistent with 
the plan of this book. It is known and admitted to be one 
of the most important of all attainments, and perhaps nothing 



380 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Difficulty of cultivating it. 



is more desired by all intelligent young persons who reflect 
at all upon their means of influence and improvement, than 
conversational power. But, notwistanding this general im- 
pression in its favor, there is nothing of half its importance, 
which is so entirely neglected in education. And there is, 
it must be acknowledged, a very great difficulty in the sub- 
ject. It can not be taught in schools and by classes, like the 
other branches of knowledge or skill. Some few successful 
experiments have indeed been made, but almost every effort 
to make it a distinct object of attention in a literary semi- 
nary, has either failed entirely, or resulted in producing a 
stiff and formal manner, which is very far from being pleas- 
ing. The acquisition of skill in conversation therefore must, 
in most cases, be left to individual effort ; and even here, if 
the acquisition of skill is made the direct object, the indi- 
vidual will notice his manner so much, and take so much 
pains with that, as to be in peculiar danger of affectation or 
formality. To acquire the art of conversation then, I would 
recommend that you should practice conversation systemati- 
cally and constantly, but that you should have some other 
objects than improvement in your manner of expressing your- 
self, mainly in view. You will become interested in these 
objects, - and consequently interested in the conversation 
which you make use of as a means of promoting them ; and 
by not having your own manner directly in view, the danger 
of that stiffness, precision, or affectation, which is so common 
a result of efforts to improve in such an art as this, will be 
escaped. I will mention what these objects may be. 

Make conversation a means of acquiring knoivledge, 
Every person with whom you are thrown into casual connec- 
tion, has undoubtedly some knowledge which would be use- 
ful or valuable to you. You are riding in the stage-coach, 
I will suppose, and the rough-looking man who sits before 
you appears so unattractive that you do not imagine J:hat he 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT 



38 



Means of cultivating it. 



Experiments proposed. 




has any thing to say which can interest you. But speak tc 
him — draw him into 
conversation, and you 
will find that he is a 
sea-captain who has 
visited a hundred ports, 
and can tell you many 
interesting stories about 
every clime. He will 
like to talk, if he finds 
that you are interest- 
ed in hearing him ; 
and you may make, 
by his assistance, a 
more important pro- 
gress in really useful 
knowledge, during that 
day's ride, than by the 

study of the best lesson from a book that was ever learned 
Avail yourselves, in this way, of every opportunity which 
Providence may place within your reach 

You may do much to anticipate and to prepare for conver- 
sation. You expect, I will suppose, to be thrown into the 
company of a gentleman residing in a distant city. Now, 
before you meet him, go to such sources of information as are 
within your reach, and learn all that you can about that 
city. You will certainly be able to obtain some hints in 
regard to its public institutions, its situation, its business, and 
its objects of interest of every kind. Now you can not read 
the brief notices of this sort which common books can fur- 
nish, without having your curiosity excited in regard to some 
points at least, and you will go into the company of the 
stranger, not dreading his presence and shrinking from the 
necessity of conversation, but eager to avail yourself of the 



THE SEA-CAPTAIN 



382 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 

Plans and experiments. 

opportunity of gratifying your curiosity, and learning some* 
thing full and satisfactory from an eye-witness of the scenes 
which the book had so briefly described. By this means, 
too, the knowledge of books and of conversation — of study 
and of real life — will be brought together ; and this is a 
most important object for you to secure. It will give vivid- 
ness and an air of reality to written description, if you can 
frequently, after reading the description, have an opportunity 
to converse with one who has seen the object or the scene 
described. 

You may make, too, a more general preparation for the 
opportunities for conversation which you will enjoy. Con- 
sider what places and what scenes those with whom you 
may be casually thrown into connection, will most frequently 
have visited, and make yourself as much acquainted with 
them as possible ; you can then converse about them. As- 
certain, too, what are the common topics of conversation in 
the place in which you reside, and learn by reading or by 
inquiry all you can about them ; so that you can be prepared 
to understand fully what you hear, and make your own in- 
quiries advantageously, and thus be prepared to engage 
intelligently and with good effect, in the conversation in 
which you may have opportunity to join. 

On the same principle it will be well for you, when you 
meet with any difficulty in your reading or in your studies, 
or when in your private meditations any inquiries arise in 
your minds which you can not yourselves satisfactorily an- 
swer, not to dismiss them from your thoughts as difficulties 
which, must remain because you can not yourselves remove 
them. Consider who of your acquaintances will be most 
probably able to assist you in regard to each. One may be 
a philosophical question, another a point of general litera- 
ture, and a third may be a question of Christian duty. By 
a moment's reflection you will easily determine to whom 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 333 



Digesting knowledge. Necessity of digesting what is read. 

each ought to be referred ; and when the next opportunity 
occurs you can refer them, and give yourself and your friend 
equal pleasure by the conversation which you will thus in- 
troduce. 

Make conversation a means of digesting your hioivledge 
The food that is received into the system is, by a peculiar 
set of vessels, dissolved, and so incorporated with the very 
system itself as to become actually a part of it : it is assimi- 
lated completely, and then, and only then, does it promote 
its growth and strength. Now, it is just so with the recep- 
tion of knowledge. It must not only be received by the 
mind, but it must be analyzed and incorporated with it, so 
as to form a part of the very mind itself; and then, and not 
till then, can the knowledge be properly said to be really 
possessed. If a scholar reads a passage hi an author, simply 
receiving it into the mind as a mass, it will do him very 
little good. Take for example these very remarks on con- 
versation : a reader may peruse the pages thoroughly, and 
fully understand all that I say, and yet the whole that I 
present may lie in the mind an undigested mass, which never 
can nourish or sustain the intellect. On the other hand, it 
may be not merely received into the mind, but made a sub- 
ject of thought and reflection there ; it may be analyzed ; 
the principles which it explains may be applied to the cir- 
cumstances of the reader ; the hints may be carried out, and 
resolutions formed for acting in accordance with the views 
presented. By these and similar means the reader becomes 
possessed, really and fully, of new ideas on the subject of 
conversation. His thoughts and notions in regard to it are 
permanently changed. His knowledge, in a word, is digest- 
ed — assimilated to his own mind, so as to become as it were 
a part of it, and so intimately united with it as not to be 
separated again. 

Now, conversation affords one of the most important means 



381 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Writing. Personal journals. 

of digesting what is read and heard, In fact, you can not 
talk about what you learn, without digesting it. Sometimes 
two persons read together, aloud, by turns, — each one freely 
remarking upon what is heard, making inquiries, or bringing 
forward additional facts or illustrations connected with the 
subject. Sometimes two persons reading separately, come 
afterward together for a walk, and each one describes his 
own book, and relates the substance of what it contains as 
far as he has read it, bringing down at each successive meet- 
ing the narrative or the description as far as the reader has 
gone. By this means each acquires the power of language 
and expression, digests and fixes what he has read, and also 
gives information to his companion. If any two of my read- 
ers will try this experiment, they will find much pleasure 
and improvement from it. 

III. Writing. The third and perhaps the most import- 
ant of the means of intellectual improvement is the use of 
the pen. The powers of the pen, as an instrument for ac- 
complishing all the objects of intellectual effort, discipline, 
knowledge, and skill, are almost altogether unknown among 
the young. I am satisfied, however, that any general re- 
marks which I might make would be less likely to interest 
my readers in this subject, than a particular description of 
the manner in which they can best use the pen to accom- 
plish the objects in view. I shall accordingly come at once 
to minute detail. 

1. Personal Journals. Every young person old enough to 
write, may take a great deal of pleasure in keeping a journal 
of his own personal history. After a very little practice the 
work itself will be pleasant, and the improvement which it 
will promote is far greater than one who has not actually 
experienced it would expect. The style should be a simple 
narrative of facts, — chiefly descriptions of scenes through 
which you have passed, and memoranda in regard to impor- 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 385 



Form and manner. Running titles 



tant points of your history. Every thing relating to your 
progress in knowledge, your plans for your own improvement, 
the books that you read, and the degree of interest which 
they excited, should be noted down. You ought not to re 
solve to write every day, because sometimes it will be impos 
sible to do so ; and then when your resolution has once 
yielded to necessity, it will afterward more easily be broken 
by negligence. Resolve simply to write ichen you can ; 
only be careful to watch yourself, and see that you persevere 
in your plan, whatever interruptions may for a time su-pend 
it. At the close of the week, think how you have been em- 
ployed during the week, and make a record — a short one at 
least you certainly can — of what has interested you. When, 
from forgetfulness, or loss of interest in it, or pressure of other 
duties, you have for a long time neglected your journal, do 
not throw it aside and take up a new book and begin formally 
once more — but begin in the same book, at the place where 
you left off before — filling up, with a few brief paragraphs, 
the interval of the history ; and thus persevere. 

There should be in a journal, and in all the other sets of 
books which I shall describe, a double running title, like 
that over the pages of this book, with two lines ruled as 
above, so that the general title may be above the upper one, 
and the particular subjects of each individual page above 
the under one. This double running title would be in the 
following form : 

1850. PERSONAL JOURNAL. 61. 

Ride into the country. My sister's sickness. 

The reader will understand that the number 61 represents 
the page. Corresponding with 1850 on the left hand page, 
should be written the name of the place in which the write! 
resides and the word 'private may be used instead of per- 

R 



386 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Engravings. The child and the bill of fare. 

sonal, if it is preferred. The book should be of such a form 
as can be easily written in, and of moderate or small size. 
You can begin a second volume when you have finished the 
first, and the volumes will in a few years begin to be numer- 
ous. I have seen very many manuscript volumes made in 
this way. 

Whatever may be the size or form of your journal, it 
may be made attractive by being embellished with illustra- 
tions. These illustrations may consist of drawings made by 
yourself or your friends, or of engravings given to you for 
keepsakes, or coming into your possession when traveling, as 
representations of the places that you visit. Many such will 
come into your possession if you have a journal to put them 
into, and if you value them for that purpose. Once, when 1 
had been spending several days at a hotel with some friends, 
a child of twelve years of age who was of the party, asked 
me one day at dinner if she should take one of the " bills of 
fare" from the table. " Certainly," I said, " but what do 
you want it for ?" "I want to cut off' the picture of the 
hotel from the top of it," she replied, " to put it into my 
journal." I saw the engraving afterward in its place in the 
journal, where I have no doubt it remained many years, and 
often served to remind the ingenious preserver of it of hei 
pleasant sojourn at the hotel. 

In some cases a delicate flower, carefully pressed, will 
serve as a very beautiful and very lasting memorial of the 
place where it grew, and of the circumstances under which 
it was gathered.^ 

A journal, now, kept in this systematic manner, will be 

* Engravings can be most conveniently fastened in by wafers, which 
have been first split with a penknife to make them thin, and then quar 
tercel Of course white wafers are the most suitable. Flowers can 
best be secured by means of a few touches of a very thick solution of 
gum arabic, upon the underside of every leaf and stem. 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 387 

Family journal. By brothers and sisters. Its advantages. 

interesting and valuable, if you describe in it the things thai 
most interested you at the age in which you kept it ; and if 
it is carried on regularly through life, even with such inter- 
ruptions as I have alluded to, it will be a most valuable and 
most interesting document. You will read its pages again 
and again with profit and pleasure. 

2. Family Journal. Let three or four of the older brothers 
and sisters of a family agree to write a history of the family. 
Any father would procure a book for this purpose, and if the 
writers are young, the articles intended for insertion in it 
might be written first, on separate paper, and then corrected 
and transcribed. The subjects suitable to be recorded in 
such a book will suggest themselves to every one ; a descrip- 
tion of the place of residence at the time of commencing the 
book, with similar descriptions of other places from time to 
time, in case of removals — the journeys or absences of the 
head of the family or its members — the sad scenes of sickness 
or death which may be witnessed, and the joyous ones of 
weddings, or festivities, or holydays — the manner in which 
the members are from time to time employed — and pictures 
of the scenes which the fireside group exhibits in the long 
winter evenings — or the conversation which is heard and the 
plans formed at the supper table, or in the morning walk, — 
these and a thousand similar topics would furnish ample ma- 
terial for the work. 

If a family, when first established, should commence such 
a record of their own efforts and plans, and the various deal- 
ings of Providence toward them, the father and the mother 
carrying it on jointly until the children are old enough to 
take the pen, they would find the work a source of great im- 
provement and pleasure. It would tend to keep distinctly in 
view the great object for which they ought to live, and re- 
peatedly recognizing, as they doubtless would do, the hand 



388 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Subjects. Notes and abstracts. 

of God, they would feel more sensibly and more constantly 
their dependence upon him. 

The form and manner in which such a journal should be 
written might properly be the same with that described under 
the last head — the word family being substituted for per- 
sonal in the general title. It ought also to be written in 
such a style and upon such subjects as shall render it proper 
for the perusal of children. On this account, it will be well 
to avoid such particulars, in regard to any child, as may be 
flattering to his vanity when he shall become old enough to 
read them, and to refrain from making a record of faults 
which would remain a standing source of suffering and dis- 
grace, when perhaps they ought soon to be forgotten. It is 
true, that one of the most important portions of such a jour- 
nal would consist of the description of the various plans 
adopted for correcting faults, and for promoting improvement 
— the peculiar moral and intellectual treatment which each 
child received — the success of the various experiments in 
education which intelligent parents will always be disposed 
to try — and anecdotes of the children, illustrating the lan- 
guage, or the sentiments, or the difficulties of childhood. 
With a little dexterity, however, on the part of the writer, a 
faithful record of all these things can be kept, and yet, by an 
omission of names, or of some important circumstances, the 
evils I have above alluded to may be avoided. 

3. Notes and Abstracts. It is sometimes the case, that 
young persons, when they meet with any thing remarkable 
in the course of their reading, transcribe it, with the expec- 
tation of referring to their copy afterward to refresh their 
memories ; and thus, after time, they get their desks perhaps 
very full of knowledge, while very little remains in the head. 
Now it ought to be remembered that knowledge is of no 
value, or at least of very little, unless it is fairly lodged in 
the mind, and so digested as to become a permanent posses 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 389 

True design of taking notes. 

sion. If the transcribing or writing of notes and abstracts 
of what you read is made the means of fixing thus firmly in 
the mind your various acquisitions, it is of immense value ; 
if made the substitute for it, it is worse than useless. It may 
be a most powerful means, as any one may prove to himself 
by the followiug experiment. 

Head some history in the ordinary way, without the use of 
the pen, except in respect to some one chapter in the middle 
of the work, with which you may try the experiment of an 
abstract. After having read this chapter attentively, shut 
the book and write off the substance of the narrative which 
it contains, in your own language. The more you deviate 
in style and language from your author the better, because, 
by such a deviation you employ your own original resources, 
you reduce the knowledge which you have gained to a form 
adapted to your own habits of thought, and you consequently 
make it more fully your own, and fix it more indelibly in the 
mind. After finishing the abstract of that chapter, go on 
with the remainder of the book in the usual way, by simply 
reading it attentively. You will find now, if you carefully 
try this experiment, that the chapter which you have thus 
treated will, for many years, stand out most conspicuous 
among all the rest in your recollections of the work. The 
facts which it has stated, will retain possession of your mind 
when all the rest are forgotten, and they will come up, when 
wanted for use, with a readiness which will show how en- 
tirely you made them your own. 

It is on this principle, and with such a view, that notes and 
abstracts are to be written. Some very brief practical direc- 
tions will be of service to those who wish to adopt the plan. 

Do not resolve to write copious abstracts of all that you 
read ; the labor would be too great. Never read, however, 
without your abstract-book at hand, and record whatever 
strikes you as desirable to be remembered. Sometimes, when 



390 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Form of books. Plan. Variety. 

reading a book of great importance, and full of information 
which is new and valuable, you may w r rite a full abstract of 
the whole. Gibbon, the celebrated historian, attributed, it 
is said, much of the success of his writing to the influence of 
a very copious abstract which he had made of Blackstone's 
Commentaries, a most interesting book, and one which no 
young man of education can read without profit and pleasure. 

Let the form of your abstract-books be like the journals 
already described ; with ruled lines at the top for a double 
running title, to facilitate reference. 

Let your abstracts be of every variety of form and manner, 
— sometimes long and sometimes short, sometime fully written 
in a finished style, and sometimes forming merely a table of 
contents of your book. There may be a blank line left be- 
tween the separate articles, and the title of each article 
should be written before it, and doubly underscored, that is, 
distinguished by a double line drawn under it. When this 
caption is the title of a book read, and is prefixed to a long 
abstract, it may properly be placed over the article. Some- 
times the writer, in making his notes, will merely copy a re- 
markable expression, or a single interesting fact ; and at other 
times a valuable moral sentiment, or a happy illustration. 
He will often insert only a single parapraph from a long book, 
and at other times make a full abstract of its contents. In a 
word, the manner in which such note-books will be filled, 
will vary according to the taste or ingenuity of the individual 
student ; and also according to the nature of the studies in 
which he is engaged. Whatever may be the form which is 
adopted, the substantial advantages to be secured will be al- 
ways the same. 

The reader will observe that a great prominence has been 
given in this chapter to the use of the pen, as a means of in 
tellectual and moral improvement. I assure my readers that 



PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 391 



Power of the pen. 



I he power of the pen for such a purpose is not overrated. ] 
am aware that a great many persons, though they may ap- 
prove what I have said, will not make any vigorous and earn- 
est efforts to adopt the plan. Still more will probably begin 
a book or two, but will soon forget their resolution, and leave 
the half-finished manuscript in some neglected corner of their 
desks finally abandoned. But if any should adopt these 
plans, and faithfully prosecute them, they will find that the 
practice of expressing in their own language, with the pen, 
such facts as they may learn, and such observations or reflec- 
tions as they may make, will exert a most powerful influence 
upon all the habits of the mind, and upon the whole intel* 
lectual character. 



392 



YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Conclusion. 



CHAPTER XII. 



CONCLUSION. 

tt And now I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to 
build you up and give you an inheritance among them that are sanctified." 

As I draw toward the close of this volume, I think of the 
influence which it is to exert upon the many who will read 
it, with mingled emotions of hope and fear. I have en« 
Jeavored to state, and to illustrate as distinctly as I could. 




CONCLUSION. 



conclusion. 39: 



Responsibility of religious teachers. 



the principles of Christian duty ; and if, my reader, you have 
perused these pages with attention and care, they must 
have been the means of bringing very plainly before your 
mind the question, whether you will or will not confess 
and forsake your sins, and henceforth live to God, that you 
may accomplish the great object for which life was given. 
I shall say nothing, in these few concluding paragraphs, to 
those who have read the book thus far without coming in 
heart to the Savior. If they have not been persuaded ere 
this to do it, they would not be persuaded by any thing which 
I have time and space now to say. I have, however, before 
ending this volume, a few parting words for those who have 
accompanied me thus far with at least some attempt at self- 
application — some desire to cherish the feelings which I have 
endeavored to portray — some penitence for sin, and resolu- 
tions to perform the duties which I have from time to time 
pressed upon them. 

It is, if the Bible is true, a serious thing to have opportu 
nity to read a religious book — and more especially for the 
young to have opportunity to read a practical treatise on the 
duties of piety, written expressly for their use. The time is 
coming when we shall look back upon all our privileges with 
sad reflections at the recollection of those which we have not 
improved ; and it is sad for me to think that many of those 
who shall have read these pages will in a future, and per- 
haps not a very distant day, look upon me as the innocent 
means of aggravating their sufferings, by having assisted to 
bring them light, which they nevertheless would not regard. 
This unpleasant part of my responsibility I must necessarily 
assume. I share it with every one who endeavors to lay be- 
fore men the principles of duty, and the inducements to the 
performance of it. He who enlightens the path of piety, pro- 
motes the happiness of those who are persuaded to walk in 
it, but he is the innocent means of adding to the guilt and 



394 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Injuiy to le done by this book. Imperfect self-application. 



misery of such as will still turn away. To the one class of 
persons, says Paul, M we are the savor of death unto death, 
and to the other, the savor of life unto life." 

It is not merely to those who absolutely neglect or refuse 
to do their duty to God, that the ill consequences of having 
neglected their privileges and means of improvement will 
accrue. These consequences will be just as sure to those 
who partially neglect them. I will suppose that a young 
person, whose heart is in some degree renewed, and who has 
begun to live to God, receives and reads this book. She feels 
desirous of cultivating Christian principles, and she sits down 
to the work with a sincere desire to derive spiritual benefit 
from the instructions which it contains. She does not run 
over the pages, dissecting out the stories for the sake of the 
interest of the narrative, and neglecting all the applications 
of them for the purposes of instruction ; but she inquires 
when a fact or an illustration is introduced, for what purpose 
it is used — what moral lesson it is intended to teach — and 
how she can learn from it something to guide her in the dis- 
charge of duty. She goes on in this manner through the 
book, and generally understands its truths, and the principles 
which it inculcates. But she does not cordially and in full 
earnest engage in the practice of them. For example, she 
reads the chapter on confession, and understands what I mean 
by full confession of all sins to God, and forms the vague 
and indefinite resolution to confess her sins more minutely 
than she has done ; but she does not, in the spirit of that 
chapter, explore fully all her heart, and scrutinize with an 
impartial eye all her conduct, that every thing which is wrong 
may be brought to light, and frankly confessed and abandoned. 
She does not, in a word, make a serious and an earnest busi- 
ness of confessing and forsaking all sin. 

In another case, a young man who is perhaps sincerely a 
Christian, though the influence of Christian principle is yet 



CONCLUSION. 395 



A useless way of reading. 



weak in his heart, reads that portion of the work which 
relates to the Sabbath. He knows that his Sabbaths have not 
been spent in so pleasant or profitable a manner as they 
might be, and he sees that the principles pointed out there 
would guide him to duty and to happiness on that day, if he 
would faithfully and perseveringly apply them to his own 
case. He accordingly makes a feeble resolution to do it. 
The first Sabbath after he reads the chapter, his resolutions 
are partially kept. But he gradually neglects them, and 
returns to his former state of inaction and spiritual torpor on 
God's holy day. 

Now there is no question that many young Christians will 
read this book in the manner I have above described ; that 
is, they throw themselves as it were passively before it, allow- 
ing it to exert all the influence it will, by its own power, but 
doing very little in the way of vigorous effort to obtain good 
from it. They seem to satisfy themselves by giving the book 
an opportunity to do them good, but do little to draw from it, by 
their own efforts, the advantages which it might afford. Now 
a book of religious instruction is not like a medicine, which, 
if it is once admitted into the system, will produce its effect 
without any further effort on the part of the patient. It is 
rather a tool or an instrument which you are to use industri- 
ously yourself. The moral powers will not grow unless you 
cultivate them bv vour own active efforts. If vou satisfy 
yourself with merely bringing moral and religious truth into 
contact with your mind, expecting it, by its own power, to 
produce the hoped-for fruits, you will be like a farmer who 
should, in the spring, just put a plow or two in one part of 
his field, and half a dozen spades and hoes in another, and 
expect by this means to secure a harvest. Many persons 
read religious books continually, but make no progress in 
piety. The reason is, their own moral powers are inert 
while they do it. The intellect may be active in reading 



396 YOUi\G CHRISTIAN. 



Effectual reading. Plan recommended. 

and understanding the successive pages, but the heart and 
the conscience lie still, hoping that the truth may of itself 
do them good. They bring the instrument to the field and 
lay it down, and then stand by its side wondering why it 
does not do its work. 

I beg my readers not to treat this volume in that way, and 
not to suppose that simply to read and understand it, how- 
ever thoroughly it may be done, will do them any good 
The book, of itself, never can do good. It is intended to 
show its readers how they may do good to themselves, and it 
will produce no good effect upon any who are not willing to 
be active in its application and use. 

Do you, my reader, really wish to derive permanent and 
real benefit from this book ? If so, take the following meas- 
ures ; it is a course which it would be well for you always 
to take at the close of every book that you read on the subject 
of duty, Recall to mind all those passages' which, as you 
have read its pages, have presented to you something which 
at the time you resolved to do. Recollect, if you can, every 
plan recommended, which, at the time when you were read- 
ing it, seemed to be suited to your own case, and which you 
then thought you should adopt. If you have forgotten them, 
you can easily call them to mind by a little effort, or by 
a cursory review. You will thus bring up again to your 
mind those points in which the instructions of the book are 
particularly adapted to your own past history and present 
spiritual condition. 

After having thus fully reconsidered the whole ground, 
and gathered all the important points which are peculiarly 
adapted to your own case into one view, consider deliberately, 
before you finally close the book, what you will do with re- 
gard to them. If any thing has been made plain to be your 
duty, consider and decide distinctly whether you will do it 
or not. If any thing has been shown to be conducive tc 



CONCLUSION. 397 



Be in earnest. 



your happiness, determine, deliberately and understanding^ 
whether you will adopt it or not. Do not leave it to be de- 
cided by chance, or by your own accidental feelings of energy 
or of indolence, what course you will take in reference to a 
subject so momentous as the question of religious duty. I 
fear, however, that notwithstanding all that I can say, very 
many, even among the most thoughtful of my readers, will 
close this book without deriving from it any permanent good, 
either in their conduct or their hearts. It will have only 
produced a few good intentions, which will never be carried 
into effect, or arouse them to momentary effort, which will 
soon yield again to indolence and languor. 

There is no impression that I more strongly desire to 
produce in these few remaining pages, than that you should 
be in earnest, in deep and persevering earnest, in your efforts 
after holiness and salvation. If you are interested enough 
in religion to give up the pleasures of sin, you lose all enjoy- 
ment unless you grasp the happiness of piety. There are, at 
the present day, great numbers in whose hearts religious 
principle has taken so strong a hold as to awaken conscience 
and to destroy their peace, if they continue to sin ; but they 
do not give themselves up with all their hearts to the service 
of the Savior. They feel, consequently, that they have lost 
the world ; — they can not be satisfied with its pleasures, and 
they are unhappy, and feel that they are out of place when 
in the company of its votaries. But though they have 
thrown themselves out of one home, they do not, in earnest, 
provide themselves with another. They do not give all the 
heart to God. No life is more delightful than one spent in 
intimate communion with our Father above, and in earnest 
and devoted efforts to please him by promoting human hap- 
piness ; and none is perhaps more unhappy, and prepares 
more effectually for a melancholy dying hour, than to spend 
our days with the path of duty plain before us, and (conscience 



198 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



A great proportion of life gone. 



urging us to walk in it, while we hang back, and walk with 
a slow and hesitating step, and look away wistfully at the 
fruits which we dare not taste. Do not take such a course 
as this. When you abandon the world, abandon it entirely ; 
and when you choose God and religion for your portion, do it 
with all your heart. Outrun conscience in the path of duty, 
instead of waiting to have your lagging steps quickened by 
her scourge. 

Once more. Much less of life is left to you than you 
generally suppose. Perhaps the general age of the readers ot 
this book will be between fifteen and twenty, and fifteen or 
twenty years is probably, upon an average, half of life. I 
call you young, because you are young in reference to the 
active business of this world. You have just reached the 
full development of your powers, and have consequently 
but just begun the actual work of life. The long years that 
are past have been spent in preparation. Hence you are 
called young — you are said to be just begiiming life, under- 
standing, by life, the pursuits and the business of maturity. 
But life, if you understand by it the season of preparation for 
eternity, is more than, half gone ; — life, so far as it presents 
opportunities and facilities for penitence and pardon — so far 
as it bears on the formation of character, and is to be con- 
sidered as a period of probation — is unquestionably more than 
half gone to those who are between fifteen and twenty. In 
a vast number of cases, it is more than half gone, even in 
duration, at that time ; and if we consider the thousand 
influences which crowd around the years of childhood and 
youth, winning to piety, and making a surrender to Jehovah 
easy and pleasant then, and on the other hand look forward 
beyond the years of maturity, and see these influences losing 
all their power, and the heart becoming harder and harder 
under the deadening effects of continuance in sin, we shall 
not doubt a moment that the years of immaturity make a far 



CONCLUSION. 399 



Closing address to parents. 



more important part of our time of probation than all those 
that follow. 

You do right, then, when you are thinking of your busi- 
ness or your profession, to consider life as but begun ; but 
when you look upon the great work of preparation for an- 
other world, you might more properly consider it as nearly 
ended. Almost all moral changes of character are usually 
effected before the period at which you have arrived, and 
soon all that will probably remain to you on earth will be to 
exemplify, for a few years, the character which in early life 
you formed. If, therefore, you would do any thing in your 
own heart for the cause of truth and duty, you must do it in 
earnest, and must do it now. 

I have intended this book chiefly for the young, but 1 
can not close it without a word at parting to those of my 
readers who have passed the period of youth. If the work 
shall at all answer the purpose for which it is intended, it 
will, in some instances at least, be read by the mature ; and 
I may perhaps, without impropriety, address a few words 
respectfully to them. 

You are probably parents ; your children have been read- 
ing this book, and you have perhaps taken it up because you 
are interested in whatever interests them. You feel also a 
very strong desire to promote their piety, and this desire leads 
you to wish to hear, yourselves, whatever on this subject is 
addressed to them. I have several times in the course of 
this work intimated, that the principles which it is designed 
to illustrate and explain, are equally applicable to the young 
and the old. It has been adapted, in its style and manner 
only, to the former class ; and I have hoped, as I have penned 
its pages, that a father might sometimes himself be affected 
by truths which he was reading during a winter evening to 
his assembled family ; or that a mother might take up the 



400 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Their co-operation. Ways in which they may co-cperate. 

book purchased for her children, and be led herself to the 
Sa i vior by a chapter which was mainly written for the pur- 
pose of winning them. I do not intend, however, to press 
here again your own personal duties. I have another object 
in view. 

That object is to ask you to co-operate fully and cordially 
in this, and in all similar efforts to promote the welfare of 
your children. If you have accompanied them through this 
volume, you will know what parts of it are peculiarly adapt- 
ed to their condition and wants. These parts you can do 
much to impress upon their minds by your explanations, and 
by encouraging them to make the efforts which are required. 
The interest which a father or a mother takes in such a book, 
is a pretty sure criterion — nay, it is almost the very regulator, 
of that felt by the child. 

If you notice any thing in the volume which you think 
erroneous, or calculated to lead to error ; or if there is any 
fault which your child discovers and brings to you, with a 
criticism which you feel to be just, do not deny or attempt 
to conceal the fault because it occurs in a book whose gen- 
eral object and aim you approve. Separate the minute 
imperfections from the general object and design of the 
whole; and while you freely admit a condemnation of the 
one, show that it does not affect the character of the other, 
and thus remove every obstacle which would impede what 
is the great design of the book, to press the power of religious 
obligation in its most plain and simple form. 

On the other hand, do not magnify the faults which you 
may find, or think you find, or turn off the attention of your 
children from the serious questions of duty which the book 
is intended to bring before the conscience and the heart, to 
a cold and speculative discussion of the style, or the logic, 
or the phraseology of the author. A religious book is in 
some degree entitled to the privilege of a religious speaker. 



CC^CLUSION. 401 



Religious example of parents. 



Parents easily can, on their walk home from church, oblit- 
erate all serious impressions from the minds of their children, 
by conversation which shows that they are looking only at 
the literary aspects of the performance to which they have 
listened. In the same manner they can destroy the influence 
of a book, by turning away attention from the questions of 
duty which it brings up, to an inquiry into the logic of an 
argument, or a comment upon the dullness or the interest of 
a story. 

There is one thing more which I may perhaps without 
impropriety say. Your religious influence over your chil- 
dren will depend far more on your example, than upon 
your efforts to procure for them good religious instruction. 
They look to you for an exemplification of piety, and if they 
do not see this, you can not expect that they will yield them- 
selves to its principles on your recommendation. Your chil- 
dren, too, must see piety exemplified in a way which they 
can appreciate and understand. To make vigorous efforts 
for the support of the Gospel — to contribute generously for 
the various benevolent objects of the day — and even to cul- 
tivate in your hours of secret devotion the most heartfelt and 
abasing penitence for sin, will not alone be enough to recom- 
mend piety effectually to your children. They look at other 
aspects of your conduct and character. They observe the 
tone of kindness or of harshness with which you speak — the 
tranquillity or the irritation with which you bear the little 
trials and disappointments of life — your patience in suffering, 
and your calmness in danger. They watch to observe how 
faithfully you perform the ordinary duties of your station. 
They look with eager interest into your countenance, to 
see with what spirit you receive an injury, or rebuke what 
is wrong. 

By making faithful and constant efforts to live like Chris- 
tians yourselves, and to exhibit to your children those effects 



402 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 



Blessing obtained by religious example. 



of piety upon your conduct and character which they can 
understand and appreciate, and by adapting religious instruc- 
tion to the peculiar intellectual habits of the young, you may 
anticipate a sure and an abundant blessing upon your labors. 
Chilhood is a most fertile part of the vineyard of the Lord. 
The seed which is planted there vegetates very soon, and the 
weeds which spring up are easily eradicated. It is in fact 
in every respect an easy and a pleasant spot to till, and the 
flowers and fruits which, with proper effort, will bloom and 
ripen there, surpass all others in richness and beauty. 



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